hiiii 🥹 can i please request a fic for an autistic little? i struggle in public and like to wear my noise cancelling headphones
thank you❤️🩹❤️🩹
Hi mlll, of course! 🥰 i hope you don’t mind that it’s Christmas themed — i just love all of the ornaments im seeing when i go shopping :))
‘𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧
little!autistic!reader x fem!cg (mama used)
Another December had rolled around — and you knew exactly what that meant.
Time to get a new ornament for the Christmas tree!
Ever since you had met your caregiver, she had insisted on making Christmas as magical as possible, with as many traditions as possible.
There was baking cookies, decorating gingerbread houses, helping Mama wrap Christmas presents (“Let Mama hold the scissors, baby, they’re a bit sharp. I know you love your Bluey bandaids, but I don’t want my little one getting hurt.”)—
But your favourite activity of all was getting to pick out a new ornament for the Christmas tree.
The only issue was the mall.
It was noisy.
Very. Noisy.
“Everyone’s doing their Christmas shopping, my love. I know it’s a lot of people, but they’re just making sure their loved ones have presents for Christmas!” Your Mama blindly reached back to squeeze your knee as she focused on the road.
You still couldn’t help but let out the little whimper, hugging your arms close to your body.
She keeps her soft hand on your knee, soothingly rubbing her thumb back and forth as she drives. She’s wearing the bracelet you had made for her just a few days ago. You can’t help but smile, and soon your legs are softly kicking again.
Once the car is parked, Mama helps you out of the backseat, fixing your clothes after the trip. The parking lot alone was teeming with people — crying children, frazzled mothers, stressed fathers.
Your breath hitches as you cling onto your Mama’s hand. She crouches to reach your level, gently kissing your forehead.
“I brought your headphones,” she holds them up out of her handbag.
Your sacred, noise-cancelling headphones. Haphazardly decorated with various stickers and gems. Before you can register any other overwhelming noises from the public, she’s slipping them over your ears.
The noise softens considerably, leaving your ears with a cool rush of what sounds like the ocean. Your Mama’s face grins back at you, giving you a thumbs up in question.
Soothed by the silence, you offer a thumbs up of your own, and she gently grabs your hand to lead the way into the mall.
It’s beautifully decorated with lights, shades of red and green, golden baubles, and you see a big line for a Santa photo station. Your Mama expertly weaves through the crowds of Christmas shoppers, making sure no one brushes against you.
Some more steps and an escalator trip later, you have reached the quieter store that sells various artisan ornaments.
Mama’s face appears in front of yours again, and she signals to your headphones. You tentatively lift them and the noise comes rushing back in — chatter, loud music, and cries — too much. You clamp them back on. Mama just gives you a knowing, sympathetic nod and gently rubs your back, redirecting your attention to the wall of ornaments.
Row after row of glittery ornaments stood before you, reaching up to the ceiling. Snowmen, trees, elves, Santas, presents, nutcracker fairies, ballerinas — your eyes widened at all of the possibilities.
With your headphones on and Mama’s hand warmly on the small of your back, you had all the time in the world to pick.
Eventually you pick the one that catches your eye the most, turning with a grin to present it to your Mama. You see her delighted grin as she claps and gently takes it off you to purchase at the counter.
You watch her lips move as she converses with the cashier whilst you hide shyly behind her, fiddling with the fabric of her top as her warm, coconut scent envelops you.
Once the transaction is done, the paper bag swings happily on your wrist as you hold hands with Mama to leave the mall. As exciting as the prospect of a new ornament was, you couldn’t help but release the subtle tension in your jaw and shoulders when you finally reach the car.
Mama slips off your headphones after she buckles you in safely.
“What’d you think, baby? A bit crazy?” She jokes, starting the car. You grin back with a flush.
“Do you know where you’re going to put your new friend? Maybe next to the penguin we got last year?”
Her voice fades as the car ride continues, you happily replying back when you felt the need to — but it grew less frequent as the warmth in your chest expanded.
It was Christmas time, you were safe, you were cared for. All the wishlists, traditions, and presents in the world couldn’t compare to your caregiver.
With that thought in mind, you allow the gentle rock of the car to lull you to sleep — dreaming of warm cinnamon cookies, standing on tippy-toes to put on the new ornament, and many more Christmases with your Mama.
“how about we start off with your pretty name and how big you feel?”
“lets trace our hands!”
“can you show mama how you draw your sweet love hearts?”
“oh my— that was amazing! can you teach mama how to draw as beautifully as you?”
“how about…. we can try and draw your favorite plushies? or if that’s a bit tricky… we could try finding the colours that match with them? does that sound like a good idea, baby?”
