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Let me start off by saying "Hello fellow fans!" I love you all. Our Walking Dead fandom is so sweet, and I enjoy [almost] every encounter I have with the people in it. 

That said. 

On the weekend of June 3rd, 2017, FanFest Events put on a Walker Stalker Convention in my hometown of Nashville. This was the second one here, but the first one that I've been able to attend. I've done other conventions in the past, but never this one. So when I ran across B1G3 free weekend passes on the website, I scooped them up, and thus began the Walker Stalker planning.

For 6 months I drove my husband and friends crazy talking about this convention, and how I was going to meet my favorites (some I'd met before, some I hadn't). I purchased photo ops and autographs, I made a bunch of stickers to hand out, and I set aside a crap ton of money just for spending at WSC. I was ready. With my years of past convention experience in the bag, and having done research and read reviews, I felt as though I was prepared for Walker Stalker. 

So on June 3rd, we woke up super early to beat the traffic and get the good parking space. That left us standing in line for 2 hours waiting for the doors to open, but what the hell, right? We're here to see people... so we made small talk, and the time passed fairly quickly. My kids had their Nintendos, and all was well. 

The initial reveal inside the doors was... unimpressive. Again, I've been doing comic con events for years. I expect to see a full floor of artists, vendors, and activities. That's why I pay to get in the door in the first place. WSC had very few vendors, and most of them had the same items as the next. The few that stood out were things like an airbrush booth, swords and knives (surprisingly, there was only ONE of these booths), and some handmade item stores. It just... wasn't breathtaking. It wasn't like walking into DragonCon and seeing rows and rows of amazing artists and vendors. There was simply a small section, a bit left of the middle of the floor, with very few vendors, most of which were robbing their customers blind with their prices. 

But I figured, eh. It's a newer convention (less than 10 years old), still getting its footing... so whatever. 

Continuing one, we walked around and caught a glimpse of a few celebrities. The appeal, I think, of this con, is truly intended to be these people. The issue with that is that if you don't purchase a VIP admission (or higher), you're likely to stand in line for hours while people who just rolled out of bed a half hour ago prance in with their Platinum passes and stand in front of you. Put simple, that alone was enough to make me want to leave. 

All of the perks of going to this convention go to VIP pass holders. Don't get me wrong, I fully understand the concept... but in the past I have worked for other conventions, and found that VIPs usually have their own line TIME. Not their own LINE. So for example, the VIP line TIME would be 10 a.m. The general admission line time would be 1 p.m. If a VIP runs late, they have to jump in the GA line. At this convention, the VIPs have their own LINE. So if your scheduled time to get in the Norman Reedus autograph line is 11 a.m., and the VIP is scheduled to be in line at 9 a.m. but they miss their time, then no matter how long you have stood there waiting, when they show up, they get in. It is nine different levels of complete and utter bullshit, if you ask me. Walker Stalker Con, if you're reading this: Having a VIP system doesn't mean that you treat GA attendees like second-class citizens. The $1500 Platinum VIP pass for one person may, subjectively scaled, be the same thing as another person's $100 weekend pass. The money is still hard earned. A better system, perhaps, would be to (as previously mentioned) allot a time for VIPs to be in line, and then instead of having one of their perks be to rudely jump in the front of a line of people who have been waiting since breakfast, offer them a couple more autograph or photo op tickets. If for no other reason, I will never attend a FanFest event again SIMPLY because unless you spend $300+ on JUST the single admission ticket, it's basically a massive line standing party. 

Now, moving onto photo ops:

By far the WORST experience I have EVER had with photo ops is the one that I had at WSCNashville2017. Having done dozens of expensive paid photo ops in the past, I had a pretty good idea of what to expect. If you don't know, professional photo ops at conventions are exactly what they sound like: Professionally taken photo ops of you and a celebrity that you pay a significant amount of money for. These things are usually lightening fast. You walk in, set down your stuff, cuddle with your favorite, quick snap, walk out. There really isn't time for introductions or things of that nature (although, I've never had a Norman Reedus or JDM photo op where they didn't take 2 seconds to hug me and thank me for coming). Knowing this, I prepared myself to do what I always do, which is exactly what I typed above. I couldn't have anticipated that they would scream at me to approach Norman before the lady in front of me was done with her photo, or that they would physically shove me out of the room after my JDM photo op, or that they didn't even allow the half a second I needed to form a proper smile before snapping a photo. Both pictures were so horrible that I nearly cried. $100 each... for photos that I am ashamed to display in my home. THE THING ABOUT THIS IS that WSC contracts out to a company called "Celeb Photo Ops" out of Indiana. Because it's a separate company, the schedule often clashes with the WSC schedule. They snatch celebs from their autograph booths all day long, despite the fact that their signs say they have 10 more minutes to meet people. They're also rude as hell, just in general. I've actually checked to make sure that none of my other cons use them, because they will never get another penny of my money. (And the most frustrating thing is that they post a video before every convention trying to convince people that this is just "how it works." Let me assure you people: This is NOT how it works. You shouldn't be expected to fork over that kind of money to be treated like an inconvenience.)

Over all, my saving grace was with the guys. Norman and Jeffrey were sweet and wonderful, and had it not been for them I would've called the entire weekend a bust. If you want my opinion, I say most of these guys do other conventions. Go to those. Avoid WSC and HVFF like the plague until they learn how to treat all of their customers like human beings instead of annoying afterthoughts.

I will never be back. 

I am not sorry I feel this way. 

WSC and HVFF are a disgrace to the convention community. It's an outrageous money-grab, and I've never been so disappointed in my life.
Issue on last story fixed, if anyone had an issue with it. Read on :D

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WARNINGS: NSFW material/word porn/RPF/18+ ONLY.

**FOR YOUR BEST READING EXPERIENCE: Download the Chrome extension "InteractiveFics." It changes the Y/N pseudonym to your ACTUAL name. Highly recommend!**

ALSO****Obviously Jensen is a happily married man. If you continue, you're entering a world where he is not, in fact, committed to another human being. I do not... WILL NOT... write infidelity. Happy reading :) ****





You sat at the autograph table and played on your phone. Usually, it wasn’t allowed for volunteers to play on their phones while they worked, but since you were waiting for Jensen to get back from photo ops nobody said anything. You’d been working with him all weekend, and at this point the convention crew pretty much left you alone to do your job.

You knew that he was coming back when you heard screams that seemed to come in a wave from one end of the room to the other. You pocketed your phone, and started laying out headshots for people to get signed. There was only one more round to go before you were both done for the weekend. The line had been forming for over an hour now, as people left the photo booth and headed straight over to get their spot. You’d made polite conversation and answered questions about what it was like to work close to Jensen, but honestly, besides the convention itself, it hadn’t been a great weekend. Your ex had been sending text after text begging you to come back, after you broke up with him. You were done, and emotionally tired. So you’d avoided what social interaction with Jensen’s fans that you could.

When the people in line started to scream, you knew they’d seen him duck into his little curtained area behind the table. You poked your head into the curtain and nodded in Jensen’s direction. “You have fun over there?”

Jensen sipped a bottle of water and nodded. “My ass got grabbed more than once.” He sat down the water bottle and came through the curtain.

For about 15 seconds, you couldn’t hear anything but the screaming women. Soon after, though, you were handing out headshots, taking money, and being the con-goers’ worst nightmare as you rushed them through the line (a job that you didn’t enjoy, but that had been clearly laid out for you).

When the line cleared, Jensen helped you pack up the photos and you both headed to the safety of the bodyguard surrounded curtain room. You put the bag of photos in the corner and sat down on a chair, taking a deep breath as your butt hit the seat.

“Long day?” Jensen asked, taking the seat beside you.

“Um… yeah… you could say that.” You replied.

Jensen looked concerned. “You okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” You said, rising to your feet. “I just need whiskey and a comfy seat.”

Jensen stood and reached to embrace you. You met him halfway and hugged him. You’d hugged at the end of every day, and this day was no different. Jensen’s voice rose from deep in his chest, where your head rested. “It was really great working with you.” he said.

“Same.” You replied. And you meant it from the bottom of your soul. You were just so tired.

You parted ways after a few more goodbyes, and you headed to your hotel room, where you got out of your con-crud covered clothes and showered. After putting on some sleep shorts and a tank top, you brushed out your wet hair and washed the makeup off your face in the mirror before going to find the whiskey you’d stashed in your bag. “Ice.” you said to yourself.

You grabbed the ice bucket and went into the hallway. After filling the bucket, you returned to your door. Nearly tearing up, you realized that you’d left your room key inside the room. So you were standing outside your hotel room with a bucket of ice wearing no bra, and with no key to get back in. “DAMMIT!” You screamed. It may have been a bit much, but the anger you felt was hard to contain. You pressed your back to the door and slid down until your butt hit the floor.

You sat there for a few seconds, stewing, before you heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Part of you wanted to hide, but the other part just couldn’t bring yourself to stand up. So you looked up.

“What… what the hell are you doing down there?”

“Jensen.” You said. “Right, because this couldn’t get worse.”

He held out a hand, which you took to lift yourself off the floor. “What, you don’t like me?”

You sighed. “No, I like you. I just kind of hoped you’d never see me… like this.” you waved your hand up and down to illustrate your current state of misfortune. “And also, I didn’t know you were staying here. Or I probably wouldn’t have come out of my room like this at all.”

Jensen ran a hand through his hair and leaned back. “I don’t understand, you look fine. And I’m on the top floor, but the elevator door opened to let someone out and I heard someone yell, so I had to come see what it was about.”

You nodded. “Well… I locked myself out.”

“Is that all?” said Jensen. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

He walked away and came back a few minutes later waving a key card in the air above him chanting something about “saving the day.” You moved out of the way, and he inserted the card. The door whirred and unlocked. He opened it, and held it for you. “So…” he said, “Do you wanna let me come in so you can tell me about what’s bothering you?”

You sat down the ice bucket. “You can come in. But I’m not talking about what’s bothering me.”

“That works.” He shut the door behind him.
For the next couple of hours, you sat on the crappy loveseat in your room, shared whiskey and swapped stories. You steered clear of ex-boyfriend talk. You weren’t interested in his sympathy (even though you clearly had it anyway), but he was fun to talk to.

“It’s a guy isn’t it?” Jensen interjected while you sipped your drink.

“Okay, fine.” You gave in, “A couple of months ago I broke up with my boyfriend. And as of a few days ago, he won’t leave me alone. That buzzing that my phone keeps doing? All him. I don’t even have to look to know it.”

Jensen sat his drink on the table. “What’d he do?”

You reached over and sat yours beside his. “Lied. Like a lot.”

He just stared at you, wordlessly asking for more information.

“Okay, but you’re not allowed to judge me, Jensen.”

He shook his head. “Of course not!”

“So… I don’t… usually do well in monogamous relationships.” You swallowed nervously. This wasn’t something you discussed with people. At all. “I don’t sleep around or anything. I just don’t like being defined by a man. I don’t like that when you’re in a relationship, it’s this terrible thing if you flirt with another person, or whatever. So going into this, when it got serious, I told him that. And I told him that I didn’t expect anymore from him than I was willing to give. Only honesty. So if he felt the need to be with another person, just be safe, and tell me so that I know to get tested.”

Jensen was a little taken back by your confession, but he was hanging in there, nodding along.

“I found out that after two years of thinking that he was just a one-woman kind of guy, he’d actually been sleeping with multiple people.”

Now Jensen stopped you. “So let me get this straight. You said he could screw anyone he wanted to, all he had to do was be honest about it, and he couldn’t even do that?”

“Exactly.” You answered. “I got tested, everything is fine. But that’s kind the pinnacle of dishonesty. And I’m not interested in it.”

“Well, one, you’re obviously the coolest girlfriend ever. And two, he’s an idiot.”

“Kind of my thought, too.” You said, picking up your glass and carrying it to the kitchenette counter.
You sat the drink down and turned to find Jensen standing there. He reached to hug you, but unlike at the convention, where he’d waited for you to return the hug, he pulled you into him and squeezed you tightly.

You didn’t know if it was the contact, or the strength in his hold, but something about it made the anxiety in your chest fizzle out through your legs and feet. You held onto him, and listened to him breath, taking in the smell of cologne and whiskey. You hadn’t realized that just the release of tension had caused tears to form in your eyes. You weren’t sad, though. Just… relieved.

He released you, and you were slightly disappointed. You leaned back against the countertop and smiled up at him. “Thanks.”

He used his thumb to wipe a tear from your cheek, and then tucked your hair behind your ear. That’s when the air in the room changed. It was suddenly heavy with feeling. The tips of his fingers on your neck made the hairs on your arms stand straight. You reached out and took the hem of his shirt between your fingers, pulling him gently toward you until his pelvis rested on your belly. His fingers tangled in your hair and he held the back of your neck so that you had to look up at him. Then, he touched his lips to yours, so gently that you barely felt it.

Your breathing went ragged and shaky. You were suddenly nervous: Suddenly aware of who had just kissed you. You’d spent so much time with him over the weekend that he’d just become this other person. One that women fainted for when he walked into a room, but still… to you he was the guy that farted in the green room and scared other celebrities into the crowd without their bodyguards. But now… in this room… he was a stunningly handsome, green-eyed, god-like creature whose hand was sliding up the back of your shirt, brushing your cool bare skin with his warmth, and it was… entirely different.

Even moreso, he was also breathing raggedly. His heart was also racing. He was also nervous. Which just might have been the most endearing thing you’d ever seen.

The silence was deafening, but Jensen was the one who broke it. “I actually… wanted to do that yesterday. When we were in the greenroom. You know, after the fart smell and all the people were gone, and we were… alone.” His fingers trailed your spine.

You touched his chest and wiggled your body just a little where you could feel him growing hard between you. “Why didn’t you?”

“Honestly?” He said, “I just assumed you had a boyfriend, because of how much you looked at your phone. And I wouldn’t want to… disrespect you. You were so great all weekend, I didn’t want to repay you by acting like a caveman.”

You wrapped one arm around him back and pulled him closer. “And now?”

“Oh, now I’m definitely gonna kiss you.” He chuckled before he lowered his lips to yours again. This kiss was different, though. His grip on your back and neck tightened and he pulled you in. He teased your lips with his tongue until you opened your mouth. You tasted the whiskey and gum on his breath, as his tongue slid across yours. He bit your bottom lip gently, causing you to moan when you exhaled, which made him smile. He took the hand that held the back of your neck, and teased the bottom hem of your shirt. He knew exactly what he was doing when he rubbed his fingers across your belly slowly. Little bolts of lightning shot straight to your core.

He teased your neck with his teeth as he peeled the tank top off of you and kissed your collarbone. He rubbed one nipple and took the other into his mouth, sucking and biting it just enough that it rose to attention, then switched and did the same to the other, all the while tickling down your torso until his fingers rested on the waistband of your shorts. He waited, as though he were asking for permission, so you grabbed his arm and urged him to continue.

He took his time--so much time that it almost hurt--but when his fingers finally touched the lips of your pussy, you felt like you were on fire. He used one finger to tease your clit and you nearly collapsed into him.

He took his hand from your shorts, and removed his shirt. You admired his body as he kicked off his shoes and socks and stripped down to his underwear. He came back to you and kissed you again while he worked your shorts down your hips, then cupped your ass and pulled you up, where you wrapped your legs around him and kissed his neck. He carried you to the bed and laid you so that your bottom half was on the edge of it, then got on his knees and put your legs over his shoulders. “God you’re beautiful” you heard him say, before he licked and kissed your thighs and made his way close to the part of you that hungered for him the most.

He finally… FINALLY… licked you… and you moaned in excitement. His tongue trailed the inner folds of you, and then flicked across your swollen clit, causing you to jump. When he’d found the spot, he spread your legs more and inserted two fingers into you.

“Oh god yes,” You whispered.

He curved his fingers and started fingering your g-spot while his tongue worked tirelessly on your clit. It was almost too much. With one arm, he held you down, because your body was pulling away, but you knew you didn’t want to pull away. You wanted more. “Oh god, please… please don’t stop,” you begged. “Please.”

And he didn’t. The bubble in you was ready to pop, and you were just on the edge, until everything went white and your body convulsed as you came apart. “Fuuuuck, Jensen…” were the only words that you could manage.

When you’d finished, Jensen licked his fingers clean, and then kissed you. He pulled you further onto the bed and worked out of his underwear. You could feel him against you now, and you became excited all over again.

“I gotta ask, Y/N…”

“Yeah?”

“How do you…” The question trailed off as he kissed your neck.

“Mmm, like it, you mean?”

“Mmhm?” His tongue was running behind your ear now.

“I can show you.”

He stopped and gave you that classic ‘Jensen’ “oh really?” face.

In response, you pushed his shoulder until he lied flat on the bed. You straddled him, and then put his hands above his head. “Leave them there.” You told him. You kissed him, and then his neck, and his chest, while you rubbed yourself on his erection. When you couldn’t stand it anymore, you rose up and positioned yourself above him, and then slowly lowered yourself onto him.

He stretched you perfectly. He was large, but you were in control. Jensen’s eyes rolled into his head, and his knuckles were white from restraining himself. “I just want to touch you.” he said.

“You will,” you replied. You rode him slowly, steadying yourself with his stomach. He felt amazing, and having this beautiful, powerful man under your control was the icing on the cake. He grunted and groaned underneath you, and you felt his hips begin to rise to meet your strokes.

“Please, Y/N…”

“No.” you said. Being in control was fun, but that wasn’t really what you wanted. You wanted him to take control. “It’s your turn.”

Like a switch had been flipped, his hands shot up to your waist and swung you around until you were underneath him. He pinned your arms above you, just as you had done his, and started fucking you mercilessly. “Is this what you want, Y/N?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Y… yes… oh god…” you said. Instinctively, your hands searched for him, but he caught them and put them back above your head. You bent your knees and he shoved one shoulder under one of them and stretched it up, never slowing down. His hand tangled in your hair, and he pulled, sending shockwaves to your stomach. “Fuck yeah” you grunted. You were ready to come again, but you knew that now that he understood he wasn’t going to let you. He fucked you until you were riding that edge, and then he stopped, flipped you over, and slammed into you from behind.

You buried your face in the comforter. He hit against you over and over, filling you to the brim with each hard thrust, and slapped your ass hard. You screamed in pleasure. He reached around and played with your clit, and you tightened around him in response. He was measured, and deliberate, and you were burning from the inside out.

“Do you wanna cum baby?” He asked.

“Please…”

“Come for me, Y/N.”

He thrusted into you a few more times, and you came, clenching around him over and over. You knew he was close when each clench made him harder, and when you’d had  your final wave, he pulled out of you and turned you toward him. You took his dick into you mouth, and he roughly pulled your head back and forth. You sucked on him, and swirled your tongue around the sensitive tip until he screamed your name and emptied into you.

You swallowed the salty cum and smiled up at him. After you’d both cleaned yourselves up, he laid on the bed and held his arm out so that you could lay with him.

“I… I didn’t expect that, Y/N. Honest.”

“It never occurred to me that you did, Jensen.”

“We need to exchange numbers. That definitely needs to happen again. With handcuffs.”

Your, now sore, pussy twitched at the thought. “I’d like that.”
Jensen X Reader: Working Together (NSFW/SMUT/18+)
You work with Jensen at a convention and make a connection. 

FOR YOUR BEST READING EXPERIENCE: Download the Chrome extension "InteractiveFics." It changes the Y/N pseudonym to your ACTUAL name. Highly recommend!
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I see you few watchers ;) How about a new fic soon? What do ya say?
I accidentally favourited one of my own deviations... smh, guys. And I can't undo it! WTF.
Let me start off by saying "Hello fellow fans!" I love you all. Our Walking Dead fandom is so sweet, and I enjoy [almost] every encounter I have with the people in it. 

That said. 

On the weekend of June 3rd, 2017, FanFest Events put on a Walker Stalker Convention in my hometown of Nashville. This was the second one here, but the first one that I've been able to attend. I've done other conventions in the past, but never this one. So when I ran across B1G3 free weekend passes on the website, I scooped them up, and thus began the Walker Stalker planning.

For 6 months I drove my husband and friends crazy talking about this convention, and how I was going to meet my favorites (some I'd met before, some I hadn't). I purchased photo ops and autographs, I made a bunch of stickers to hand out, and I set aside a crap ton of money just for spending at WSC. I was ready. With my years of past convention experience in the bag, and having done research and read reviews, I felt as though I was prepared for Walker Stalker. 

So on June 3rd, we woke up super early to beat the traffic and get the good parking space. That left us standing in line for 2 hours waiting for the doors to open, but what the hell, right? We're here to see people... so we made small talk, and the time passed fairly quickly. My kids had their Nintendos, and all was well. 

The initial reveal inside the doors was... unimpressive. Again, I've been doing comic con events for years. I expect to see a full floor of artists, vendors, and activities. That's why I pay to get in the door in the first place. WSC had very few vendors, and most of them had the same items as the next. The few that stood out were things like an airbrush booth, swords and knives (surprisingly, there was only ONE of these booths), and some handmade item stores. It just... wasn't breathtaking. It wasn't like walking into DragonCon and seeing rows and rows of amazing artists and vendors. There was simply a small section, a bit left of the middle of the floor, with very few vendors, most of which were robbing their customers blind with their prices. 

But I figured, eh. It's a newer convention (less than 10 years old), still getting its footing... so whatever. 

Continuing one, we walked around and caught a glimpse of a few celebrities. The appeal, I think, of this con, is truly intended to be these people. The issue with that is that if you don't purchase a VIP admission (or higher), you're likely to stand in line for hours while people who just rolled out of bed a half hour ago prance in with their Platinum passes and stand in front of you. Put simple, that alone was enough to make me want to leave. 

All of the perks of going to this convention go to VIP pass holders. Don't get me wrong, I fully understand the concept... but in the past I have worked for other conventions, and found that VIPs usually have their own line TIME. Not their own LINE. So for example, the VIP line TIME would be 10 a.m. The general admission line time would be 1 p.m. If a VIP runs late, they have to jump in the GA line. At this convention, the VIPs have their own LINE. So if your scheduled time to get in the Norman Reedus autograph line is 11 a.m., and the VIP is scheduled to be in line at 9 a.m. but they miss their time, then no matter how long you have stood there waiting, when they show up, they get in. It is nine different levels of complete and utter bullshit, if you ask me. Walker Stalker Con, if you're reading this: Having a VIP system doesn't mean that you treat GA attendees like second-class citizens. The $1500 Platinum VIP pass for one person may, subjectively scaled, be the same thing as another person's $100 weekend pass. The money is still hard earned. A better system, perhaps, would be to (as previously mentioned) allot a time for VIPs to be in line, and then instead of having one of their perks be to rudely jump in the front of a line of people who have been waiting since breakfast, offer them a couple more autograph or photo op tickets. If for no other reason, I will never attend a FanFest event again SIMPLY because unless you spend $300+ on JUST the single admission ticket, it's basically a massive line standing party. 

Now, moving onto photo ops:

By far the WORST experience I have EVER had with photo ops is the one that I had at WSCNashville2017. Having done dozens of expensive paid photo ops in the past, I had a pretty good idea of what to expect. If you don't know, professional photo ops at conventions are exactly what they sound like: Professionally taken photo ops of you and a celebrity that you pay a significant amount of money for. These things are usually lightening fast. You walk in, set down your stuff, cuddle with your favorite, quick snap, walk out. There really isn't time for introductions or things of that nature (although, I've never had a Norman Reedus or JDM photo op where they didn't take 2 seconds to hug me and thank me for coming). Knowing this, I prepared myself to do what I always do, which is exactly what I typed above. I couldn't have anticipated that they would scream at me to approach Norman before the lady in front of me was done with her photo, or that they would physically shove me out of the room after my JDM photo op, or that they didn't even allow the half a second I needed to form a proper smile before snapping a photo. Both pictures were so horrible that I nearly cried. $100 each... for photos that I am ashamed to display in my home. THE THING ABOUT THIS IS that WSC contracts out to a company called "Celeb Photo Ops" out of Indiana. Because it's a separate company, the schedule often clashes with the WSC schedule. They snatch celebs from their autograph booths all day long, despite the fact that their signs say they have 10 more minutes to meet people. They're also rude as hell, just in general. I've actually checked to make sure that none of my other cons use them, because they will never get another penny of my money. (And the most frustrating thing is that they post a video before every convention trying to convince people that this is just "how it works." Let me assure you people: This is NOT how it works. You shouldn't be expected to fork over that kind of money to be treated like an inconvenience.)

Over all, my saving grace was with the guys. Norman and Jeffrey were sweet and wonderful, and had it not been for them I would've called the entire weekend a bust. If you want my opinion, I say most of these guys do other conventions. Go to those. Avoid WSC and HVFF like the plague until they learn how to treat all of their customers like human beings instead of annoying afterthoughts.

I will never be back. 

I am not sorry I feel this way. 

WSC and HVFF are a disgrace to the convention community. It's an outrageous money-grab, and I've never been so disappointed in my life.

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I write fan fiction and sci-fi shorts in my free time. It's just a hobby, but I enjoy it a lot. I love writing for other people, so if you have an idea that you'd like to see come to life, please let me know! WARNING: I do specialize in smut (it just happens to be the basis of most of my requests), so if you're offended by dirty stories, I suggest you stop here.
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