#i fucking love fan fiction

[alarrytale]

Because it’s Friyaaaaay, I would like to share how much my brain hates me because I have such a steamy dreams with Louis and I don’t know why. Of course I had dreams about Harry as well but they are nothing compared with those with Louis because basically nothing’s happening with Harry but with Louis? Oh my! The only dream I had with Harry which was hotter than normal also included Louis - Harry was flirting with me at some bar and Louis was standing at the opposite side of the room staring at us whole time and when we decided with Harry to go somewhere private (you know what I mean, right?), I went to Louis to ask him to join us 😂 (obviously because my larrie brain, I wanted to watch them in bed haha and not actually having sex with neither of them). But in my first dream with Louis I actually ended up having sex with him (please, I still have no idea how that happend other than he was standing in front of me completely naked while I was trying not to look at him). Then I had another dream but I can’t remember it but guess we were doing some pda again. And today, today I had another dream with Louis and this time we were kissing. And he was the one who started it. But before he had a phone call with Harry (yep, my brain is larrie even in my dreams again) and Harry told him something which made him incredibly happy. And then he started kissing me while I was only standing in front of him and told him “wait, but you’re not into women” and he was like “Yeah but whatever” and started kissing me and hugging me. And then I woke up. And in few hours he had his last show in Australia looking incredibly good (even his hairstyle was looking great imo) and I’m just thinking how lucky bitch Harry is because I would fight him anytime to steal that man of his haha.

Happy friyayyy, anon!

Hahaha, well... can't say i have had similar dreams lmao. I think i've dreamt about H and L like once over these last eleven years and i think it was rather uneventful compared to yours lol. Didn’t you feel like you were helping L cheat on H when you had s*x with him or kissed him? Did you enjoy any of it? Wanting H have *ex with L rather than yourself makes sense, but L prefering you (a woman i presume) over H? Unrealistic lol. But dreams are funny things and can have deeper meaning. It's not always straight forward.

H, you better keep L away from this man stealing anon!

[kittenflufff]

show’s over

i CANNOT do digital art in a way that i like anymore man help

[yxngchen]

how are u gonna be an atla fan but be “anti aang” mf did u watch the show lmao

[sockdooe]

I don’t know if maybe it’s just me, but is anyone else seeing a rise of people claiming that they could do a better rewrite of Voltron and then immediately say they’d make K/L cannon or Adash/ canon?

I don’t know about anyone else but I genuinely don’t think making ships canon would make the show better.

In fact I think It’d make it worse.

And considering shiro isn’t even mentioned in these and if he is it’s just to be Keith dad…. Is telling.

[teaboot]

My mom and I don't talk much but the other day she asked when she was gonna get to read my writing and I said "probably never" and she asked why and I said "because it's mostly fan fiction and I don't want you to find the shit I wrote in middle school" and she went "huh" and I said "what" and she said "oh I just think it's cool that we're so similar" and I go WHAT and she said "Oh I used to read star wars fan fiction all the time" and I went WHAT MOM WHAT WHY DID YOU STOP and she said "Well I had a baby"

GUYS?!???!?!

[thekingofspin]

you know when people are like "this is my comfort character" and pick the least comforting character to ever be made?

I'm like that but with shows.

like "the thick of of is my comfort show" what? the show with nothing but constant yelling, swearing and insults and absolutely no comfort whatsoever? that's really what you're going for?

yes. that's the one.

[millportisntreal]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Matt Boyd/Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Katelyn Mackenzie/Aaron Minyard Characters: Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard, Nicky Hemmick, Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Renee Walker (All For The Game), Allison Reynolds (All For The Game), Kevin Day, David Wymack, Matt Boyd, Aaron Minyard Additional Tags: this is a theater kid au, we will get andreil eventually because they are my life, canon divergence - no exy, this is my first real fic so please bear with me, costume technician neil josten, set designer andrew minyard, actor kevin day, director nicky hemmick Summary:

What if Neil's touchstone was not exy, but....theater? Growing up in community productions, being in a children's choir, helping out with painting sets and going over scripts. What if instead of a striker, he was a costume technician? Sewing and patching and disguises are great skills to have while on the run, y'all.

[valewritessss]

What are some fanfiction pet peeves or icks?

I specifically had percabeth in mind but other ships or fandoms is fine too

[wannab-urs]

Burn Slowly/I Love You | Chapter 1

Warnings/Content/Summary: As always I live in a fantasy world where no one gets pregnant or gets STDs and no one uses a condom. This is fiction. Wear a fucking condom. Sex while intoxicated but like it’s two maybe three beers y’all they aren’t drunk. Alternating POV kind of? Reader has burn scars on her left arm, wrapping over her shoulder and a bit onto her chest. No other physical descriptors. Remember that Frankie is strong as hell so it doesn’t matter if you’re petite or amazonian, this man can toss you around all he wants to. Fuck first feelings later type beat. Eventual descriptions of PTSD, trauma, minor character death, panic attacks, flashbacks, etc.

Word Count - 2.2k

Your Chest is Heavy

You’re sitting at the worn oak counter of a dive bar just a few blocks from your apartment with a cheap beer and a copy of The Secret History. Reading at the bar is a good way to scare off most men who would normally approach you. The rest usually fuck off when you don’t even look up from the book, muttering “not interested” in their direction. It’s really hard to focus on this book, though. The plot is a little meandering, for one, but there’s also a lot of people here tonight making it loud. 

A sudden burst of laughter draws your attention. A group of guys stand around a hightop table on the far side of the room. At first glance, none are particularly appealing to you. Rowdy, obscenely muscular, clean shaven, close cropped hair. Not your type at all. You’re just about to go back to your book when one of the guys catches your eye. He doesn’t look quite like the others. Unruly dark curls stick out of a ballcap, a scruffy beard clings to his cheeks. He’s got broad shoulders and big arms like the others, but his face is softer around the edges. His eyes are still caught in the crinkles of his laughter when he meets your stare. Shit you’re staring. 

You quickly look back down at your book, curling in on yourself, hoping he doesn’t come over. You’ve basically used universal bar sign language for come talk to me and that is not what you want. Even if he’s really cute. 

“Dude, she was practically eating you with her eyes. Go over there!” Benny playfully nudges Frankie on the shoulder. 

“You haven’t had any action in ages, Catfish. Go,” Pope teases. 

Frankie scrubs a hand over his neck. “I don’t know. She was probably looking at you, Benny.” 

“She was definitely looking at you, Fish,” Will seems genuine, tone softer and less like he’s setting Frankie up to fail. 

Frankie sighs, lifting his cap and running a hand through his curls before stuffing it back on his head. “Fine. I’ll go talk to her.” The boys cheer like his love life is a fucking football game and he just scored a touchdown. 

Frankie slips into a bar stool beside you. “Uh… hi,” he says sheepishly. He feels like an idiot for doing this. 

“Not interested,” you mutter, barely even looking up from your book. Frankie’s face grows hot with shame. The boys will never let this go. Not a shot in hell. He sits there for a second, caught between facing your wrath if he doesn’t leave and facing the humiliation if he does. But just as he makes the decision to go, you look up at him. “Wait! I’m sorry. Habit.” 

Frankie cocks an eyebrow, but settles back into his seat. “I’m Frankie. Can I buy you a beer?”

“Yeah, Frankie. I’d like that.”

It wouldn’t have been right to send the man away without at least talking to him. That’s how you justify it to yourself. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was absolutely gorgeous up close. In that first quick glance you’d caught the curve of his aquiline nose, the pout of his plump lips, and the blush creeping over his golden cheeks. That was enough to warrant at least a conversation. 

And fuck it was a good conversation. He asked about your book, which led to a rant about all the reasons you didn’t like it and all the reasons you were still reading it anyway, his eyes wrinkling at the corners as he grinned at you. “What?” 

“It’s cute when you ramble,” he’d said, scratching the back of his neck. 

You talked about your job at the library and he told you he’s an ambulance driver. He jerked a thumb toward the guys still nursing their beers behind him, “Firefighters. Buncha pendejos,” he’d said a little too loudly, winking at you. 

You had fully intended on letting him down gently. You didn’t come here to find someone to go home with, you came here to have a beer. And yet you had asked him if he wanted to head out of the bar. And now you’re sitting in  his truck, rolling down the highway.

“Can you turn the AC on?” You’re sweating through your long sleeve black shirt from the heat and your own nervousness. 

“Uh… It’s broken. I’m sorry,” Frankie kind of winces, like it physically hurts him to admit. “Not far from the house though.” 

“It’s fine! Just a little warm,” you play with the sleeve of your shirt and take a deep breath. It’s fine. It’s just a little heat. You’ll be okay. Breathe. “Actually, can I roll the window down?” 

Frankie chuckles and hits the button to roll all the windows in the truck down. Your heart rate evens out as the night air hits your face. 

The truck rolls to a stop in front of a small white house. You pick at your fingers, seriously questioning if you made the right choice. He seems so sweet. You feel… safe with him. But-

“Cariño? We’re here,” Frankie speaks low, like he’s worried you’ll spook and take off. He slowly reaches over the console and takes your hand, stopping your fidgeting. He rubs a soothing thumb over the back of your hand. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah!” you say too quickly, too loudly in the stillness of the truck cab. “It’s just, uh… It’s been a while. I’m nervous.” Frankie pulls your hand up to his lips and kisses it before laying it gently back down on the console. 

“It’s been a while for me too. I’ll take care of you, though. Promise.” He winks at you and it’s so dorky and cute that it calms you down a little. 

Frankie barely gets you through the door before he gently presses you into the wall and his soft, plush lips find yours. You melt into the kiss, bringing your hands up to cradle his face. You knock his trucker hat to the floor and bury your hands in his hair, deepening the kiss with a swipe of your tongue. He tastes like cheap beer and his beard scrapes against the soft skin of your face. He smells like citrus and sandalwood. Your senses are gently overpowered by him, a soft wash of Frankie covering you and settling what remains of your nerves. 

Every fear you had comes rushing back as he slips his fingertips under the hem of your shirt. You freeze before grabbing his wrist and placing a palm on his chest, pushing him away gently. “Shirt stays on and hands stay outside of it, okay? I’m sorry…” Your body tenses in anticipation of the rejection you know is coming. He’ll kick you out. Or disregard your wishes. 

Frankie’s hands find your cheeks, drawing your face up to look at him. “Hey, it’s okay. Thank you for telling me.” He kisses you gently, reassuringly. It hits you again that you trust this stranger you just met in a bar. You deepen the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He hitches his hands under your thighs and pulls them up around his waist, settling you against his very prominent arousal. You roll yourself against him and he groans into your mouth. His hands wrap tightly around your body and he carries you down the hallway. 

He lays you gently on the bed and immediately goes for the button of your jeans, making sure to stay clear of your shirt. He tosses your jeans and underwear on the floor and drops to his knees beside the bed. 

“Oh, Frankie, you don’t have to-” your sentence is cut off by the low moan erupting from your throat as Frankie pulls your legs over his broad shoulders and buries his face in your cunt. His hooked nose grinds against your clit as he licks into you. Your hands find purchase in his curls and you roll your hips into him, grinding on his face. Frankie eats it up… literally. He groans into your pussy and you feel it reverberate through your entire body. Your head is thrown back in absolute ecstasy as he sucks your bud into his mouth, lapping at it rhythmically. You clench around nothing, pleasure curling up in your core. “Please, fuck, don’t stop. So close,” you cry out. Your voice is desperate, wrecked, and your hips are thrusting involuntarily against his face. 

You come with a near pained shout, hands tightening in Frankie’s hair and pulling him into you even harder as you grind on his nose. Frankie licks a trail from your entrance up to your mound, then presses kisses all the way up your clothed stomach and chest. He nips at your jaw as he unbuttons his pants and clumsily shoves them off with one hand, like he can’t bear to take his mouth away from you. 

“Taste so fucking sweet, hermosa,” he rumbles in your ear. “Could eat you out all night, if you’d let me.” 

You think you would let him, if you couldn’t feel his hardness pressed against your thigh. “Another time, Frankie.” You push your thigh against him. “Fuck me, please.” 

Frankie doesn’t need to be told twice. He stands up and pulls you further to the edge of the bed. He looks down at you, unconsciously licking his lips. “Fucking gorgeous…” he says under his breath. You could say the same about him. Half his curls are stuck to his forehead with sweat and half are standing wild from your fingers raking through them. His big brown eyes are wide, almost in awe. His upper half is wrapped in a tight white t-shirt that accentuates his broad shoulders and strong chest. 

He grips his thick, uncut cock in his fist and lines it up with your entrance before grabbing your hips. He pulls your hips into him, splitting you wide open without moving his hips an inch. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt so full in your fucking life. Your hands fly to his muscular forearms, hanging on for dear life as he sheathes himself inside your tight heat. “Holy fuck, Frankie.” 

“I know, baby, I know,” Frankie whispers as he bends to cover your body with his. He drags his cock out a couple of inches and rolls his hips in a fluid motion, sinking back into you and grinding against your clit on every stroke. Moans spill from your lips unchecked. You don’t care if you sound sexy or if the words you’re babbling make any sense because he feels so fucking good. 

Frankie sits up and wedges his knees under your thighs, kneeling on the edge of the bed. He grips your hips in his strong hands and easily pulls you into him, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. Your arms fly above your head, grasping onto the sheets. Your shirt rides up a little with the motion and you almost panic, but Frankie tangles his fingers into the fabric and holds the hem tight against your torso. Safe. You trust him.

Frankie grips you so hard you know you’ll bruise and slams his hips into yours, driving you closer and closer to coming. “You feel… so good, cariño. So. Fucking. Tight,” Frankie bites out between thrusts. You babble incoherently, the head of his cock is slamming into your cervix and it’s making you feel a little fuzzy around the edges. Nothing matters except Frankie’s cock buried inside you and the coil of pleasure building in your gut. He’s fucking you like a rag doll, now. Your body has gone boneless with the intensity of him inside you.

Your orgasm rips through you like a flame, burning you up from the inside out. You scream his name as your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body goes taut with pleasure. Frankie steadily, brutally, fucks you through it. When your cunt finally stops convulsing around him, he drops your hips and leans over your limp, fucked out body. 

Frankie kisses you with a tenderness that seems at odds with the way he just fucked you, stuttering his hips into you one, two, three more times before pulling out and nestling his cock into the crease between your thigh and your torso. His cum splatters across your shirt in long spurts, coating you in his release. 

His forehead drops to yours and your heaving breaths mingle in the space between you. You meet his gaze and there’s something in his eyes… something like adoration. Affection. He shakes his head slightly and stands up. 

“I’ll get you a shirt to wear,” his voice comes out hoarse, rough with the after effects of his orgasm. He disappears into his closet and comes back with a big, long-sleeve t-shirt. You sit up slowly and take the shirt from him. 

“Thank you, Frankie,” you whisper. 

Frankie wakes up in his bed alone. His brow furrows in disappointment. He usually likes to make his hookups breakfast and drive them back to their car. He knows it’s a little weird, but it’s important to him that he takes care of you. He flops onto his side and catches a glimpse of a piece of  paper on his nightstand. It’s your number, your name signed with a heart and a note promising to return the shirt. 

Frankie smiles, feeling something dangerously close to hope for the first time in a long time.

A/N: This fic has been in the works for a while now. The initial idea was pitched in a chat with @beskarandblasters and she supported me every step of the way <3. Thanks to the Whorehomies for hyping me and this idea up! I appreciate y'all more than you'll ever know. And thanks to @str84pedro for the beta/grammar edit I love you!

Let me know if you want to be tagged <3

Tag List: @beskarandblasters, @cutesyscreenname, @atinylittlepain, @harriedandharassed, @jksprincess10, @fishingforpike, @dreamingofdaddydin, @sad-bitch-disorder

[nostalgicish]

My favorite tropes in klance fanfics that are never not funny (to me):

"Fighting" over little things

Lance: "I cannot believe you just said that......" Keith: "What?? I stand by what I said. Anchovies are objectively bad and are by far the worst pizza topping." Lance: "What! A pizza without anchovies is like— like a rose without petals! an ocean without waves! a night sky without stars! Keith: "Don't care. They're gross." Lance, theatrically: "You wound me!"

Then bringing the others into it

Lance: "Hunk, are you hearing this nonsense??" Hunk: "Nope, sorry bud, I'm with Keith on this one— anchovies are nasty." Lance: *clutches his chest like he's been fucking shot*

Keith getting confused by Lance's bad flirting but it ends up working on him anyways (i.e. wrong formula right answer)

Lance: "Holy shit, dude. Your hand looks super heavy. Do you want me to hold it for you? Keith, confused: "It's uh... I was— my hand? I— uhh...... yes...?"

Keith pretending he hates pet names/PDA

Lance, planting a wet kiss on Keith's cheek: "Anything for you, baby." Keith, trying really hard not to smile: "Oh my god you're so embarrassing."

Casual sibling-energy banter among the team

Lance: "Pidge is sooooo tiny. She's like. Three feet tall! So cute!" Pidge: "Lance, I swear to God. I will beat your ass." Lance: "Bring it, munchkin. We put out the mousetraps." Hunk: "Oohhh!" *high fives Lance* Pidge: "I am going to bash in your kneecaps." Keith, deadpan: "He'll just stand on the table then." Hunk: "OOHHHH" *high fives Keith* Pidge: *deep inhale* Pidge, eerily calm: "I'm gonna give you guys. a five-second head start... One..." Keith: "Uh... a head start for what?" Pidge: "Two..." Lance: "Wait, like five seconds each or...?" Pidge, gritting: "THREE..." Hunk: "Go go go gogogogogo—"

(unabashedly stole part of that from "Shut Up and Dance With Me" by wittyy_name on ao3)

Everyone knows they're in love EXCEPT them/the team placing bets on them (is it overdone? yes. is it still funny? to me?? also yes.)

Keith: "And uh... guys? There's... one more thing we need to tell you—" Lance, blurting: "WE'RE DATING." Everyone: "..." Pidge: "Fucking finally." Hunk: "Hah! Pay up, guys!" Shiro, pulling a $20 out of his wallet: "Seriously? You guys couldn't wait one more week?" Coran, whispering to Allura: "They weren't courting before??" Allura: "I'm just as confused as you are."

And like. a million other things! i love them!!

[fuchsea]

.

[coffeeworldsasaki]

Why did people in the server tell me that Solas doesn't get hate, in what alternative reality do they live because in the span of 30 minutes I saw Solas hate in 2 different social networks

[leoreadss]

Ok it’s three am, I just finished working on the Go Team Love Note webpage. I’m reading a fic, as I said earlier, for the second time and can someone tell me why (WHY) after reading “but… what about the person who was round yours earlier?” my heart is on the roof dancing like a monkey on nitrous oxide???? I’ve been there, not with the high monkey, but right beside “Aziraphale froze”. I’m fucking frozen! I’m Elsa’s fucking sister over here.

I

LOVE

THIS

Now I need to read the whole thing till the end or at least till my eyes closed, I guess.

Maybe a reference maybe a miracle

[statementlou]

Hi,

Is the liam article that you read the new one behind a pay wall? I can't access it but I would be really interested to see what it says about how things went. Would it be possible for you to tell how does it explain what led to his fall? Maybe under a cut so anyone who doesn't want to see can skip it?

Thank you and you don't obviously have to do it if you're not comfortable.

oh that's weird it wasn't blocked for me- here this should work for everyone if not lmk. @ other anon there aren't really very graphic pictures imo that's just the clickbait bs but text is below

basically he suggests that the hotel staff took Liam up to his room and then he changed into incognito type clothes (black jacket and cap) and attempted to sneak out of his room by going from the balcony along the side of the building, as we know he (and others of them) have done many times over the years, and which he apparently is documented as having done pretty recently, and presumably lost full or partial consciousness and fell. The waiter Braian who he spent time with in the weeks in Argentina talked in his first interview about Liam jamming the keycard slot in his door previously, which would explain the part here where employees say they can't get into his room.

It is a picture that will shock music fans around the world: the late British pop star Liam Payne being manhandled through a hotel lobby by three men, just minutes before his fatal fall from a third-floor balcony.

The tragic image, which has been given to the Daily Mail, was taken from CCTV footage recorded inside the CasaSur Palermo Hotel in Buenos Aires where Payne was staying at the time of his death on October 16.

High on drugs, Payne, whose face we have chosen to obscure, appears to have been picked up by the trio of hotel employees – he had, according to one witness, been ‘convulsing’ on the lobby floor. He was taken, via the elevator, back to his third-floor suite. 

The question is, why did they move him at all, if he was so ill? Why did the hotel not call an ambulance straight away?

The timestamp on the still image shows 16:54:48. Bizarrely, however, a second picture taken from CCTV outside Liam's room shows the three employees and Payne at 16:54:37. In other words, apparently eleven seconds before they were in the lobby.

The journey from the lobby to the third floor takes at least 90 seconds, according to one guest. Clearly at least one of the timestamps is incorrect.

In an image that will shock music fans around the world, the late British pop star Liam Payne is manhandled through the CasaSur Palermo Hotel lobby by three men, just minutes before his fatal fall from a third-floor balcony. One witness claimed he had been 'convulsing' on the floor

He was taken, via the elevator, back to his third-floor suite. The tragic footage given to the Daily Mail was taken from CCTV recorded inside the hotel in Buenos Aires - where Payne was staying at the time of his death on October 16

This picture outside Liam's room shows the three employees and Payne at 16:54:37. In other words, apparently eleven seconds before they were in the lobby. The journey from the lobby to the third floor takes at least 90 seconds, according to one guest. Clearly at least one of the timestamps is incorrect

What we know for certain is that shortly after 17:00, Payne fell 13 metres from the balcony of his room into the hotel's inner courtyard. He died instantaneously.

At 17:11, an ambulance arrived and certified the singer's death. A subsequent autopsy found Payne had suffered 'multiple traumas' causing 'internal and external bleeding.' The toxicology report found traces of 'alcohol, cocaine and prescription antidepressant.'

Just days after Payne's funeral, which took place on Wednesday at St Mary's Church in Amersham, Buckinghamshire, the images perhaps offer a somewhat clearer picture of what happened leading up to the tragic accident. They also raise two serious questions.

To repeat, the first is why would hotel staff – who expressed concern in their call to the emergency services that Payne could come to serious harm on his suite's balcony – take the intoxicated singer up to his room and leave him there alone?

And second, for reasons I will explain, did Liam fall from the balcony while attempting to leave the hotel undetected - a trick he had been pulling since his days in One Direction and which he had repeated just a month previously to evade a concerned bodyguard in Florida?

If the CCTV timestamp is accurate, the sequence of events begins at 15:53 on October 16 when Liam enters the hotel with his friend, the Argentine-American businessman Roger Nores.

Liam is at this point wearing a black cap – which he donned to avoid being recognised by his legions of Latin American fans – and carrying a small bag containing his personal belongings.

The star appears in good spirits and chats with fans in the lobby before heading up to his room with Nores shortly after 16:00.

Payne died after he fell from the balcony of his third-floor suite - just minutes after hotel staff escorted the pop star through the lobby

Payne's suite was found in disarray, with drug paraphernalia strewn across one of the tables. Furniture had also been destroyed

A few minutes later, at 16:05 if the timestamp is right, the pair return to the lobby. Liam has brought his laptop down with him and – crucially, where this timeline is concerned – left his cap and bag up in his third-floor suite.

He continues to chat with a small group of American fans, discussing his life in Florida, where the singer was renting a $12,000 a month house with his girlfriend, the American influencer Kate Cassidy.

At 16:06, Nores says goodbye to Liam and leaves the hotel. At this time, Liam remains in good spirits and continues to interact with hotel guests. At 16:26, Liam is pictured lounging in the lobby, scrolling on his laptop.

Two minutes later at 16:28, Liam is photographed making one of what witnesses later described as three or four trips up to his room in a roughly 30-minute period. Each time he returns to the lobby, his behaviour appears increasingly erratic.

At one point, a witness recalled Payne receiving an email to which he exclaims: 'F*** this s*** mate,' before striking his computer on the floor.

In a separate outburst, he tells another hotel guest: 'I used to be in a boyband – that's why I'm so f***** up.'

It now appears that on the occasions Payne is said to have gone up to his room, he is likely to have been ingesting narcotics. The next known picture of him is this desperately sad one of him being hauled away by the hotel staff at 16:54:48.

Two of the men pictured carrying Payne away are dressed in the uniform of CasaSur reception staff. The Mail understands that one of the two is chief receptionist Esteban Grassi. The third man – wearing trainers, shorts and a T-shirt – works as a masseur in the hotel spa.

A vigil is held by fans for Payne in Buenos Aires the day after his death. Mourners were filmed singing his songs in candle-light

Heartbreaking moment Liam Payne fans break down in tears at vigil

A few minutes after taking the singer back to his room, the hotel put in a call to the emergency services.

'I'm calling you from the hotel CasaSur Palermo,' says chief receptionist Esteban Grassi. 'So, we have a guest who is high on drugs and who is trashing the room. Erm, so we need someone to come.'

The line then cuts out, but Grassi calls 911 again and continues: 'We need you to send someone urgently because, well, I don't know whether his life may be in danger, the guest's life. He is in a room with a balcony and well, we're afraid he might do something.'

The transcript from the 911 call shows that the operator asked reception staff whether they could gain access to Payne's room. The staff replied that they could not.

But why on earth, if Esteban Grassi was indeed concerned that Payne's life was in danger because his room had a balcony, did the hotel allow the singer to be taken up to that room and seemingly left there? And why would they call 911 just a couple of minutes after doing so? At the time of writing, the hotel has not responded to a request for comment.

It would surely have been more appropriate to hold the 'convulsing' Payne in the lobby and call an ambulance immediately. Did hotel staff prioritise keeping the lobby clear for other guests over Payne's safety and well-being?

The Mail understands that no members of the CasaSur hotel staff – including the three men who carried Payne away – are being investigated by Argentine authorities.

Three individuals have been labelled as 'people of interest' in Payne's death. They include 24-year-old Brian Nahuel Paiz and 21-year-old Ezequiel David Pereyra, both on suspicion of dealing Payne drugs.

An Instagram post by 24-year-old Brian Nahuel Paiz, who stands beside the late singer before he fell to his death last month. The post reads: 'Fly high, Chief. Thank you for having enlightened me and for crossing you into my reality. I will always remember you'

The third man is Roger Nores, who – despite having left the hotel long before Payne's erratic behaviour began – has been accused of 'abandonment of a person before death'.

Nores strongly denies the allegation and told the Mail two weeks ago: 'I never abandoned Liam, I went to his hotel three times that day and left 40 minutes before this happened. There were over 15 people at the hotel lobby chatting and joking with him when I left.'

The prolific entrepreneur – who in 2017 featured in the Forbes '30 under 30' list of influential young people for his role in the energy industry – continued: 'I could have never imagined something like this would happen. I'm really heart-broken with this tragedy, and I've been missing my friend every day.'

But while the behaviour of hotel staff leaves more questions than answers, this new picture published by the Mail today leads back to that second question – and a new possibility as to what actually happened when the singer died.

Quite clearly, the picture shows that as the pop-star is taken back to his room, he is neither wearing his black cap or clutching his bag.

And yet, when Payne's body was recovered by the emergency services at 17:11, he was found to be wearing the black cap and to have on his person the small bag he used when out and about.

In other words, it appears that between being returned to his hotel room and being found dead, Liam Payne got dressed to go out.

Could it be that Liam Payne slipped while attempting to leave the CasaSur hotel via his balcony, in a bid to avoid detection by hotel staff?

The Mail understands that hotel staff remained outside his room – according to a statement in the prosecutor's file – seemingly to ensure he did not return to the lobby and disturb other guests.

Police found a host of drug paraphernalia in Payne's room, including burnt pieces of tin foil and traces of white powder. It is certainly plausible Payne may have panicked in his paranoid state and made an ill-fated attempt to purposefully climb out of his room from his balcony.

In a further revelation, a source close to Payne has confirmed to the Mail that the pop star frequently climbed out of hotel balconies in order to avoid detection. In fact, it was a trick he and his bandmates learnt in the early days of their fame to evade their management team while on tour with One Direction. And, shockingly, the Mail can reveal it is also a trick Payne used just one month prior to his death in Florida.

My source revealed that on September 15, while staying at his rental property in Palm Beach, Payne wanted to go out and purchase drugs. His bodyguard, aware of the singer's problem with narcotics and attempts to stay clean, had closed the door to his room and urged the singer not to go out looking for a 'hit'.

Undeterred, my source says the singer escaped via his balcony, stringing a set of sheets together to act as a rope.

Further proof of Liam's high-risk stunts emerged shortly after his death when a picture resurfaced from 2014 showing the then 20-year-old singer standing on a narrow exterior ledge of the 34th floor of his London apartment building – some 350 ft in the air.

The photograph was taken following a night of raucous celebrations marking One Direction bandmate Zayn Malik's 21st birthday.

Later that day, the singer issued an apology to his impressionable young fans, saying: 'You may have seen a photo of me today, taken on top of a building. I regret being there and having a photo taken of me.'

'I do not endorse any fans trying to repeat this as it is extremely dangerous,' Payne's apology continued. 'It was a stupid and irresponsible thing to do. I am sorry.'

Fans have since taken to social media to point out the tragic foreshadowing between the 2014 picture and Liam's death five weeks ago.

The truth is that no one will ever know for sure what Liam Payne's intentions were on that fateful afternoon of October 16. However, the release of this latest picture from the CasaSur hotel lobby helps fill a hole in the sequence of events that led to his fatal fall.

One thing is for sure, the image of Payne as he is taken out of the lobby, at a time when he appears to have needed care and immediate medical attention, raises new and profound questions about where responsibility lies in the tragic tale of the deeply troubled star.What the fuck

[fridayiminlovemp3]

i now sentence you to 20 minutes in the car with your family

[youchangedmedestiel]

Yes it's in that fucking show!

Dean reacting after seeing the Destiel actors hugging in 10x05:

Also Dean four episodes later:

Me looking at Dean:

Also me: ARE YOU FUCKING KINDING ME? HAVE YOU SEEN THE BOTH OF YOU TOGETHER? HOW INSANE THIS ANGEL MAKES YOU? ARFHJZFIQJFQO! JUST DON'T, JUST STOP! YOU'RE MAKING ME SICK!