the saturday of all the things (supanova sydney)
Firstly, this post is not locked, but I would very much appreciate no reposting of these photos please - they're not sekrit, but my feeeeece, you know. It's got no place among the pretty internets people. Thank you very much in advance!
I flew to Sydney on Friday night actually hoping the weather would be kind to Supanova fans, so naturally it was 8C and rained the entire time. Hairstyle? AHAHA! Make-up? Fuck you! Yeah, it was awesome. I felt incredibly sorry for some of the cosplay people, most especially the Return Of The Jedi-style Leia paying homage to Carrie Fisher's finest slavegirl moment in what looked like a brass coil and coat hanger bra and the kitchen curtains slung stylishly over her bare legs. She'd have quite literally been freezing her tits off, poor love. RESPECT LEIA, RESPECT.
Met at the airport by my hosts for the weekend, nu_breed and vileseagulls, I realised how lucky I was to get the opportunity to attend the Expo in the company of fellow Merlin fangirls - we started talking fandom the moment we got into the taxi and didn't stop until I got back into another taxi on Sunday night. I'm not sure I can express the joy of living through this experience with People Who Get It. All the star interactions notwithstanding, the fangirl experience was the greatest thing to have happened this weekend. Thank you both so much, Y & F, for letting me stay with you and for making my trip so utterly fantastic. I adore you both and hope that I didn't make too much of a nuisance of myself.
So, on Friday night, we couched it with red wine, chocolate and watching some fanvids from another fandom (wow, those 1D boys are PRETTY, omg), taking great care to stay away away from anything that would increase our chances of vomiting on Bradley's shoes or spiral our Arthur feels out of control. We communicated exclusively in squee and at some point I must have blinked because four hours had gone by and it was almost 2am, meaning we were mere hours away from meeting the man whose face and arse launched my biggest ship.
Somehow, we managed to arrive at the Expo in plenty of time, milling around a little while we pretended we weren't going out of our minds waiting for Bradley the photos to take place. We'd decided to get all the photos out of the way on Saturday seeing as it would be the most stressful thing we'd have to deal with and then get our autographs on Sunday - this was SUCH a great idea. Honestly, the anxiety of facing these men at close quarters, actually touching them- it's such a bonkers concept- completely overwhelming to think about.
Our tickets allowed us to go pretty much to the front of all the queues and what was scheduled first by the fucking heartless bastards good people of Supanova? Why, a photo with Bradley James, of course! Nothing like getting the most nerve wracking thing out of the way, right? RIGHT? ASDFGHJKLASDFGHJKLFUUUUUUUUU
We shared the line with a gorgeous Morgana and a fabulous Donkey Arthur, who was so adorable, I mean, just look at that pout!! <333
The lines were only really starting to form, so we wound up about 15 people away from the front. It turned out to be the best spot actually, we were immediately next to the little barricade that had been set up to allow the guests to walk from the staff-only area to the photo booths, so we got to see Alan Tudyk, Karl Urban and Aidan Turner as they made their way to the booths and to the autograph signing areas, and can I just say that Karl is looking fiiiiine. Oh yeah, he's looking damn fine. He was lean and strong, VERY handsome and relaxed, none of which I can say for The Hoff, who was looking more weathered than a tanned hide a little older than I remembered. BUT I DIGRESS.
There we were, just shitting ourselves and intermittently berking out into mindless squee and flapping our hands like untrained seals minding our own business, when WHO SHOULD WALK RIGHT PAST US BUT DAFT ENGLISH, MISTER BRADLEY FUCKING JAMES HIMSELF, and fuck me if I didn't have the worst luck with my sister's borrowed camera (which is a piece of shit), because this is the best I managed to get at the time. I apologise. I was "affected", and my hands may have been shaking a little.
We (or maybe just me, I don't want to do anyone disservice here) dissolved into litanies of OH GOD OH MY GOD HE IS SO FUCKING GORGEOUS OH MY GOD HOLD ME DON'T TOUCH ME DON'T LOOK AT ME I'M DYING, and then not five minutes later, the line started moving. We were told by a staffer not to ask for hugs, because if we did, photos would take longer (THIS IS A BAD THING HOW) and other fans would miss out (OKAY OKAY I GET IT I HATE YOU). So the line's moving, and nu_breed and vileseagulls are directly in front of me, and we're all shaking like little leaves, and then it's our turn and we drop our bags/coats into a little alcove and he's suddenly literally a couple of steps away and i can't breathe, can't breathe, can't think, can't anything. I could see the girls having their photo taken with him, and I could see my turn was coming up but my brain was gone fishing, and it took a prod in the back from the staffer to move forward because BRADLEY JAMES IS LOOKING AT MY FACE. HE IS LOOKING DIRECTLY INTO MY EYES AND WAITING FOR ME TO MAN UP and then he says, "Hello," IN THAT VOICE, IN THAT FUCKING CRISP CUT-GLASS VOICE, and reaches out his hand, and I take and shake it (thank you, body, for obeying some rules despite the brain's absence) and he's asking my name, repeating it back to me, saying,
"Lovely to meet you, are you ready?"
And his hand is warm and smooth, and this is when my brain kickstarted again, because fanon assured me that his hand would be calloused from the sword. IDEFK! I AM A COMPLETE DORK BECAUSE HELLO, NOT ARTHUR!!! But anyway, his hand is so smooth, and that's when I realised that it's okay, this is a human being, and I actually fucking smiled at him. And he smiled back and somewhere out in the world, a rainbow shat a pot of gold while fairy bells gently tinkled I Want To Fuck You Like An Animal in the background. It was wonderful.
He extended his arm and I slipped under it while attempting to remain proper-like and not accidentally slip onto his thumb with my mouth, but under the guise of settling into position UNDER HIS MOTHERFUCKING ARM, I turned my cheek ever so slightly into his body so that for the briefest of moments I literally had my nose in the juncture of arm and chest, where i would like to immediately move and live out the rest of my days in a happy frolic through his armpit hair.
I AM TELLING YOU, THAT NO MATTER HOW IT LOOKS IN THE PHOTOS (I HAVE SEEN THE TERM MOOBS USED AND NOOOO. JUST NO.) BRADLEY'S CHEST IS FIRM. IT IS SOLID AND FIRM AND IT GIVES ONLY THE SLIGHTEST AMOUNT, so that it felt like I was nestling my cheek into a slab of very warm muscle.
Bradley's deliciously warm, muscled chest (I will never get tired of repeating this sequence of words) met my face and I may have passed out a little bit, but not before registering the mild scent of good skin soap and a fresh deodorant- definitely not cologne or aftershave, more likely a roll-on, definitely not a spray thing which might have sent me into a sneezing fit. Not pine or woodsy at all, (stop laughing nu_breed ) just kind of linen-fresh. There was also a hint of new-shirt smell- they were all wearing those two-tone tees on Saturday morning for the photos. perhaps they were procured for the occasion and DEAR GODS, BRADLEY SMELLS LIKE FRESH LINEN. PLEASE TO BE LETTING ME SUFFOCATE SLOWLY IN HIS ARMPIT WHILE HIS THUMB RING GLINTS PRETTILY FROM MY SHOULDER, 'TWILL BE THE HAPPIEST OF DEATHS and look at my shit eating grin, oh my god, I'm a fucking disgrace.
And then it was over - the photo taken, Bradley took my hand and shook it again.
I said, "Thank you so much for coming to Australia," to which he answered, "Thank you all so much for coming to meet with us," while internally probably thinking, bitch sniffed me.
I walked out of there a bit weak-kneed to be perfectly honest. You're shocked, right? It wasn't until I pinballed my way off the walls of the booth and picked up the photo (they were being printed immediately as we walked out) and sank into shock that I realised I'd completely forgotten to take off my glasses, which I had really wanted to do, because I left my nice new ones at work, and only had the old battered ones which sit (much like my tin hat) at a jaunty angle.
Afterwards, we had a breather and a squee, and I walked around a bit comatose (sorry again, girls!!) until it was time to head back to the photos for Eoin.
On the way, this happened. For some odd reason, I felt quite refreshed afterwards.
Back in the queues, we were once more near the front (I'm never buying plain tickets ever again, it was AWESOME not to have to queue for hours like I'd done in the past) and we were thrilled to see Eoin arrive- he walked straight past us with his whacky shorts on, just sauntered past. I swear to God, the man IS ACTUALLY GWAINE.
The line moved quickly and before we knew it, it was nu_breed and vileseagulls turn to go in, while I waited just out of view around a partition. I heard laughter and poked my head around the partition to see what was happening- the first thing I saw was Tom Hopper doing the same thing I was - literally poking his head around a partition directly opposite me. We sort of looked at each other and his face said, "What's going on," and my face said, "Don't know, man, but I feel I'm missing out.' We both looked at where Eoin was apologising for something and looking very sheepish, trying not to laugh as the photo was taken.
Apparently, he'd turned rather quickly and somehow ended up embroiled in the Tit Punching Incident with nu_breed, and then reassuring her that he hadn't, in fact, been trying to sexually molest her (HE SHOULD BE SO LUCKY). Tom, still laughing, disappeared back around the partition, and I think he must have gone off to tell the others of Eoin's Tit Punching gaffe, because when time came to have a group shot with the girls later, Bradley knew about it and mentioned it. You can read the first-hand account here :D
I walked into the photo booth to find Eoin still blushing and chuckling, and he looked at me with those fecking Irish eyes (or is that Irish fecking eyes) and said,
"Hey, how're you doon?" ...and my heart lurched to a sudden stop because of his RIDICULOUS FACE. So of course, I was very classy and immediately blurted out, "yaHey! Where's the smurf, Eoin?"
And he raised his eyebrows and said, "Right here," pulling said Freeloading Smurf out of THE FRONT POCKET OF HIS SHORTS. He held it up, and as I came in for the photo, I asked him if I could hold it, being at that stage perfectly numb and not thinking that the Freeloading Smurf had been two, possibly one degree of fabric separation from Eoin's dick (what? I bet he freeballs at least twice a week). He said, "Sure," and gave me the bloody smurf WHICH WAS WARM AND SOFT FROM BEING IN HIS FUCKING POCKET OH MY GOD WHO AM I WHAT DAY IS THIS
eta: I HAD COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN THIS, IDEK HOW, but as he gave me the smurf, he said: "You can punch it." And I did a bit of a double-take, thinking, whuh-uh? He did this little laugh and said, "Go on, punch it. He'll like it." EEEEEEOIN MACKEN WHAT IS HAPPENING INSIDE YOUR HEAD LET ME LIVE IN YOUR POCKET WITH THE FREEBALLING SMURF, OH MY GOD
It was really lovely afterwards, I thanked him thinking about how lovely his boots would look under my bed, he thanked me probably thinking bitch touched my smurf, all were thanked and off I went to meet up with the girls again and collect the photo while giggling our heads off because EOIN IS BASICALLY GWAINE, PEOPLE. He's LOVELY and SEXY and I was too busy laughing to sniff him (until Sunday, that is, BUT MORE ON THIS LATERRRRRR oh god OH GOD OH MY GODDDDD EEEEEEEEEEEEE)
We came out of the Eoin booth and immediately got in line for Tom, who was scheduled for photos next. We were told once again that there were to be no hugs because by this stage everything was running late and the panel was supposed to start very soon - there was very little time left for the photos and staff were trying to quickly push everyone through. It was a whirlwind after that, virtually no waiting at all and once more I followed the girls, finding myself in a room with a very buff, very, very tall Tom Hopper, whose grin is so cute, it will make your toes curl. And possibly your pants fall off. He cocked his head to the side and I think we were both thinking the same thing: that he may have to kneel, because a photo with both our faces in it might be a physical improbability. It looked like we were about to shoot facial porn. Which I would have been completely fine with, for the record.
I said," Am I even in this shot?" We looked at each other (i'm sure that looked pretty comical), then both looked at the photographer, and Tom said, "Well, is she?"
The photographer laughed it off, and waved us together, so I snuggled into Tom's side. It felt like snuggling up to a sun-warmed brick wall, in that HE IS ALL MUSCLE. ALL OF THE MUSCLE. THERE IS NOTHING BUT MUSCLE. MUSCLE MUSCLE EVERYWHERRRRRRE. I didn't have to make special sekrit effort to smell him either, he wore a lovely manly cologne, strong enough to detect without dedicated covert sniffing even if I hadn't been nestled under his arm like a hobbit under a tree. He's GORGEOUS, and funny, and I was really taken with how warm his armpit smile was and how very polite he is (and all of them are). They're all well brought up boys, and their mothers should be very proud.
I feel that by this point, the boys' photos ops were being really rushed through. We were still very lucky in that we had our awesome passes and were waved through to the front of all the lines, so there was virtually no waiting for Rupert at all, and coupled with the fact that he didn't have a huge line of people waiting for him (WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE, ARE THEY BLIND? HE IS THE SHIT AND ALSO THE REAL STAR OF MERLIN, OH MY GOD).
Still, even coupled with this, the staff were literally pushing people through. I had to tell the staffer behind me to calm down a little when she prodded me in the back to hurry it up, because come on. A bit fucking rude. But anyway, in I went, and I'm seriously, SERIOUSLY in love of problematic proportions with this guy. He's GLORIOUS. He smiles and smells and just IS warmth personified. He's like a tall, lean teddy bear, god bless his (probably) cotton socks.
He sort of leaned in my direction and said, "How are you, okay?" I think I whimpered something to the tune of "You're my favourite," and he laughed so happily that my heart jammed up into my throat. He honest to god replied with, " Oh, bless you for saying that," and graciously allowed me to cling to him like a limpet for the photo, which is by far my absolute favourite. He is PERFECT. I mean, he's the kind of perfect you'd take home to your mother if you didn't hate her and and want to make her life a misery with a bikie gang member for a son/daughter-in-law, but I DIGRESSSSS. He is MY KIND OF PERFECT. I walked out of there on cloud nine wishing only that I'd been a little taller and able to feel his hair brushing against my face and I don't even care if that's creepy, okay.
And then, with the panel already due to start RIGHT NOW, they were rushing people through to the very, very late group shot, which I like to lovingly refer as the Camelot Beef Sandwich. Contrary to my greatest fears, I did not in fact blunder in there asking where my place in said sandwich was. Actually, faced with the gorgeous lot of them all in one room together, I froze up and just stood there beholding their beauty until I was once more prodded in the back by the impatient staffer, whom I shall refer to as The Hag. The Hag wanted me to just step into their midst, but they were talking amongst themselves, possibly about Eoin's afore-mentioned Tit Punching Incident, seeing as the girl whose boob was Definitely Not Sexually Molested had just left. IDEK to be honest, I was really just a mess of feels at this point, and honestly, THE FOUR OF THEM. IN ONE FUCKING ROOM. THERE ARE NO WORDS. NONE. AT ALL. EXCEPT MAYBE 'HAVE AT ME' BUT THIS WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN APPROPRIATE AND I HAVE HAD A FIRM, A VERY, VERY FIRM AND SERIOUS WORD WITH MY BRAIN ABOUT EVEN THINKING IT.
Bradley, who really strikes me as someone very conscious and aware of what's happening around him (I can't actually quantify this, except that I had a distinct impression of him being very observant, and concerning himself with what was going on- he never ever looks oblivious to anything. he doesn't ever seem caught out. he seems to anticipate pretty much whatever happens - i'm not sure if it's due to his experience with fan interactions now or what it is. He seems very reserved, and guarded, like it would take a lot of work to really get to know him, unlike Eoin for instance, who comes across as very open) looked up and sort of invited me in with a wave of his hand, saying,
"Well, come on in," IN THAT VOICE. WHILE LOOKING AT ME. AND HIS MOUTH WAS MOVING AND IT SAID THINGS. TO ME.
And I, ever eloquent and in complete control, squeaked, "..............jeeeeeeeeeesuusssssschrist,"
To which Bradley then replied, "He's not here. But I am."
Eoin giggled, and as I walked into the sandwich, Bradley looked down at me and said, "Look, we're all matching in Pendragon red!" and that's pretty much all I remember, except that I'm fairly certain I actually squeezed both Bradley's and Eoin's waist as the photo was taken.
This probably accounts for the looks on their faces, though I'm pretty sure my arm wasn't long enough to grope Tom, so I'm not sure what the reason for that is except he might be mulling over Bradley's words and wondering if they mean he's better than Jesus. YOU KNOW IT, BRADDERS :DDD
The waist-squeezing may or may not have been an involuntary spasm, but whatever it was, Eoin is ...softer than Bradley, I'm not even kidding. BRADLEY IS SOLID LIKE A BIG SOLID THING. It's at this point that I have trouble distinguishing reality from the not-reality where some stuff happens which I should probably not put here but write into a fic sometime instead, except substitute "me" with "Merlin" and "photo op" with "gangbang" IDK.
I'm emotionally exhausted just thinking about it, it was like an out of body experience, and I'm so thrilled that they're all more lovely than I'd even hoped and wished they were. I don't even remember much of the panel, except that I held my arm up for almost all of it with a question which I never got to ask. There were a lot of people who never got the opportunity because time is limited at these things and staffers pick fans at random from lots and lots of people who have their hands up. I can completely understand the frustration of everyone wanting the really good questions to be asked and getting inane shit like "what superpower would you most like to have." I can only hope that the question choices are more interesting and varied in Perth. I'd love to have had the presence of mind to tweet from the panel but I was so flustered after the photos that I feel I did well just to make it in there and not pass out. My camera was once again completely useless, and I don't even have one decent photo from that panel at all. Except for this one, in which it's clear that Bradley is actually Merlin, golden eyes and all :DDDDDDDDDDDD
Sunday report to come soon. /collapses