Also whatever ideas are allowed, besides like incest and predatory things (because those are bad lol)

I need fundraising ideas for getting my daughter (and me, she’s only 9) to MCM London on May 24th to have a photo with David Tennant.

(When having to choose between the lasting reminder of having seen him and a potential neurodivergent meltdown upon meeting him in an autograph queue, I think the photo will be the safest option)

She adores DT as he’s her favourite Doctor. But it’s not something I can just *buy*. I need to do some serious fundraising. And fast before all his slots fill up.

@whumpril day 1 (few days late)

CW: panic attacks, brief mention of blood, implied suicidal ideation, concern about self harm, dissociation, PTSD 

Caretaker knew something was wrong as soon as they saw Whumpee’s name pop up on their phone. Whumpee never called. They hated talking on the phone. Even when something actually warranted a call Whumpee was more likely to send a text. Which more often than not Caretaker wouldn’t see for hours. 

“Whumpee?” They said a little too loudly when they picked up the phone, causing a few of their co-workers to look up at them annoyed. On the other end of the phone Whumpee didn’t respond. All Caretaker could hear was heavy, ragged breathing, like Whumpee was running from something. 

“Whumpee?” Caretaker repeated “Whumpee are you there? Is everything okay?” 

“Caretaker.” Whumpee finally spoke. They sounded out of breathe and their voice lacked its usual force “Caretaker. I - I” They paused for several breathes as Caretaker held their phone in a white knuckle grip, trying not to speak over Whumpee. Trying to let them get the words out on their own.

“Red” Whumpee finally said with a gasp. 

Caretaker was up and moving before Whumpee had finished the word. Rushing through their office and towards the exit. 

“I’m on my way. Where are you?” 

Whumpee wasn’t good at talking about their feelings. Even before Whumper it was something they didn’t like doing, and preferred to keep an emotionless mask at all times. Since Whumper though, holding that mask had gotten harder and somehow more important to them. When they couldn’t hold the mask anymore though, and it cracked, Whumpee struggled to explain what was going on. Their emotions came out in violent outbursts and debilitating panic attacks that they couldn’t control or explain. Overtime Whumpee and Caretaker had managed to come up with a code that Whumpee could use to explain to Caretaker what was going on inside their head. 

Green meant everything was okay, and Caretaker was misinterpreting the situation. Yellow meant Whumpee was on edge, but still in control. Orange was for panic attacks. And red? Red meant Caretaker needed to drop everything and get to Whumpee quick. 

“Whumpee? Where are you?” Caretaker repeated when Whumpee didn’t respond to them the first time. 

“I’m sorry” Whumpee gasped, their voice was sounding more and more distanced, like they were falling into a trance. Caretaker began to panic a little, imagining Whumpee lost someplace and totally dissociating. Doing something stupid or dangerous, and Caretaker not being able to get to them in time. 

“Just tell me where you are Whumpee” They insisted in a forced calm voice. 

“Home.” Whumpee said and Caretaker breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Okay. I’m on my way. I’m already in the car. Just stay on the phone with me okay?” 

“I broke the mirror.” 

“Alright. We’ll deal with that. Are you hurt?” 

“I’m sorry” 

“I don’t care about the mirror Whumpee. Did you hurt yourself?” There was a long pause. before Whumpee responded. 

“I don’t know.” They breathed “There’s blood” 

Caretaker’s heartrate leapt. 

“I’m five minutes away. Just hang on and stay on the phone with me.” 

Whumpee didn’t respond. Caretaker kept trying to talk to them but they feared Whumpee wasn’t hearing them anymore. 

Caretaker finally pulled into the driveway and jumped out of their car, running into the house. Thankfully they found Whumpee exactly where they thought they would be. 

They were sitting on the floor of the downstairs bathroom with their knees up to their chest and starring ahead of them without seeing. Their back was against the vanity and they were surrounded by shards of glass from the shattered mirror above them. In one hand, they were still holding their phone up to their ear even though Caretaker had hung up when they had come through the door. In the other they were holding one of the shards of broken mirror with such an iron grip their hand was shaking. Caretaker could see blood pooling between their fingers and there was a trail dripping down their wrist. 

“Whumpee!” Caretaker ran into the bathroom and fell to their knees in front of Whumpee ignoring the bits of glass pushing into their knees through their pants. They grabbed both of Whumpee’s wrists and shook them until they dropped both the phone and the glass shard. With their hands now empty Caretaker examined Whumpee’s arms and wrists for injuries. Their fingers and knuckles were cut on their dominant hand from having punched the mirror, and there were deep cuts on their palm from where they had been gripping the shard of glass. But otherwise they were uninjured, and none of the injuries they had seemed to be intentional.

Caretaker breathed a shaky sigh of relief and looked up at Whumpee’s face. They were white as a sheet and Caretaker could see tear stains running down their cheeks. But they were surprised to find that Whumpee was looking back at them with at least some level of awareness that Caretaker was there. 

“Caretaker?” 

Caretaker reached forward and put their hands of Whumpee’s cheeks, wiping away the last of the tears. 

“Yeah Whumpee I’m here now. How are you doing?” 

“Red” Whumpee replied after a moment, and their eyes filled with tears again. Their face twisting to try to keep from crying. 

“I can’t even look at myself” They sobbed. “Why did Whumper do that to me? What did I do to deserve it?” 

“Oh, Honey” Caretaker knew Whumpee would scold them for the pet name later, but now they didn’t seem to notice. Caretaker pulled them into a hug and let Whumpee cry into their shoulder shaking and gripping at the back of their shirt with their non-bloody hand, as they stroked their hair and tried to hold back their own tears.

“You didn’t do anything to deserve this. Whumper is a monster, and they were going to hurt someone no matter what. But I’m so, so, sorry it was you. Never believe though that it was your fault. Please never believe that.” 

They stayed there on the floor of the bathroom for a long time. Whumpee crying into Caretaker’s shoulder and Caretaker doing what they could to comfort them. It had been such a long road for both of them since Whumpee had been rescued from Whumper, and they had a long way to go before Whumpee would even start to be okay again. But Caretaker was proud of Whumpee for today. For calling. For asking for help before they were too far gone. They were glad the code system had worked.