#pipeshipping

[latenightsundayblues]

I like to think that if Adam ever became an apprentice he and Hoffman would have a Tuco Salamanca Jesse Pinkman type dynamic right out of the gate. Mark just instantly senses his fear like a sniffer dog the first time they meet and from then onwards they can't be in a room together without Adam getting his ass handed to him and leaving with at least one black eye

[zombie-jed]

[kittycatcorner]

morning menaces 🐗💉📸

we are now entering TUMMY SUMMER

[stationed-radio]

I love Saw fans because they'll make an entire ship off of one scene and that's nothing new but the scene is like this

[prfctlmprfct]

Drew one of my favorite saw pairings

I wish there was more content with them, they're so awesome

[horrorknife]

hoffheight commission for @malloph0ra :-) they're going to a concert together

[ollyollyaxe]

we need to see adam in the crop top next

i instinctively read this ask in larry's voice and this just kinda made itself after i discovered a 3 year old drawing meme.. so thank u anon

[ghoul-line]

watched possession (1981) the other day and had to draw chainshipping (plus the rest of the sketch page)

colored piece inspired by quennal4 on twt

[malloph0ra]

Take a picture, it’ll last longer

[johnlennonirl]

Hoffheight / Pipeshipping thing I did at wörk

[theflirtmeister]

Domestic hoffheight :( need some cocaine inducing fluff of the guys ever :( some chicken noodle soup for the soul

On the third day, Adam demanded his bed back.

Mark refused to move from his cocoon of bloodstained pillows and sheets, because fuck whatever Adam said. His entire body ached, one moment cold, the next burning hot, and the new stitches up the side of his face prevented him from eating anything more challenging than soup. He had spent the last three days drifting in and out of sleep, pretending not to notice when Adam checked his forehead for a temperature, or tucked the blankets around him.

Now Adam was standing there with his hands on his hips, glaring. His apartment was exactly the kind of shithole that Mark had been expecting when he dragged himself up the flights of stairs, dripping blood onto the concrete steps. There were band posters and club flyers stuck to the walls, clothes strewn on the floor and on the backs of chairs. It felt like student living, but Adam was too old to be a student, and was now just pathetic.

“Get up,” Adam said. “I’m sick of sleeping on the couch.”

“Didn’t ask you to sleep there.” Mark rasped. His throat hurt from screaming, everything raw and tender.

“You didn’t give me much choice,” Adam said. “I had nowhere else to put you.”

Mark shuffled a little to the right-hand side of the bed, but didn’t otherwise evacuate. He was comfy, and the idea of sleeping on the sofa whilst trying to keep his face from falling apart didn’t sound ideal. Adam had sewn him up with the same thread he used to patch his jeans – Mark was surprised he didn’t complete the look with a safety pin.

“Good enough,” Adam muttered, and climbed onto the bed. “You’re a real dick, you know that Hoffman?”

Mark didn’t reply. Adam lay beside him like a corpse, staring up at the ceiling, hands by his sides. He was wearing his version of pyjamas, an old band shirt and a pair of boxers that slipped down his hips. His skin was goose-pimpled, and Mark started to tug at the covers, because watching Adam freeze for the sake of martyrdom was pathetic.

“What are you doing you weirdo-” Adam started, and Mark managed to pull him underneath the thin sheets, before Adam could protest further.

Adam went very still and quiet as Mark arranged the two of them, until Adam’s back was pressed up against Mark’s stomach. He was cold to the touch, and Mark wrapped one arm around Adam’s waist, burying his nose in Adam’s hair. He smelt like cigarettes and laundry detergent, unlike the horrible rot he had stunk of when Mark had gone to collect his corpse from Kramer’s bathroom.

“You’re going to get blood on me.” Adam muttered as Mark rubbed his face against Adam.

“You wanted the bed back,” Mark replied hoarsely. “Shut up and be happy.”

“Thrilled,” Adam said sarcastically. “I love having you snorting in my ear like the fucking pig you are.”

Mark shoved his nose into Adam’s ear and inhaled loudly, causing Adam to squirm away from him in disgust. Mark gave a wheeze of a laugh as Adam furiously rubbed at the side of his face – annoying him was so easy.

“You’re the worst.” Adam snapped. “I take you into my home, and you bleed all over my things and cry all the time and slobber on me.”

“I didn’t cry.” Mark prodded Adam’s back.

“Did cry.” Adam muttered. “When you were delirious and throwing up over yourself. It was real fucking pathetic.”

“You’re pathetic.” Mark replied lamely.

He didn’t want to know what he had said when his body was going through shock – whose names he’d called out, what secrets he’d spilt to Adam. He can barely remember the first day, but has a faint memory of being held on the floor, Adam’s fingers digging into his wrist as he screamed in pain. He thinks he may have begged for Angelina.

“Great comeback,” Adam said. “Ever considered a career in comedy Hoffman, instead of serial killing?”

“Fuck you,” Mark said, resisting the urge to prod him again. “I should have left you chained up.”

“Who else would sew your ugly face back together?” Adam asked. “Everyone else is dead.”

“Shut up,” Mark grunted and dragged Adam back towards him, tangling their legs together.

Adam, surprisingly, didn’t put up a fuss, allowing Mark to hold him. He must have felt some sympathy for Mark, or else was nervous that Mark would bite his throat open if he kicked him away. Mark hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since he was a child; one-night stands rarely stayed the night, and it was strange yet familiar to listen to Adam’s quickened breathing.

“I’m making you get out of bed tomorrow,” Adam said, his voice quiet. “Even if it’s just to sit on my fucking couch. No more feeling sorry for yourself.”

Mark could have protested. He could have screamed and shouted and threatened Adam, hidden under the covers like a child. Instead, he nodded his head, tightening his grip around Adam’s skinny waist. If he slipped his hand underneath Adam’s shirt, he could have counted every rib. Mark wondered if Adam had as many as his original namesake.

“Okay,” Mark said. “I’ll leave the bed.”

“Good,” Adam said, and reached across to turn out the light, the room cast into an ominous level of darkness. At least there was still a strip of light underneath the doorframe leading to the outside hall, and Mark stared at it until his vision blurred. “You better not snore.”

“No promises.” Mark grunted, and closed his eyes.

He listened to the sound of Adam settling down for sleep, arranging his arms in several positions before he was comfortable. He was warm as he pressed himself against Mark’s stomach, hair tickling Mark’s nose. Mark’s jaw throbbed, and he chewed the other side of his cheek to try and distract himself from the pain.

“Goodnight.” Adam said suddenly, and Mark gave him another squeeze.

“Night.” He said, and let sleep swallow him up.

[latenightsundayblues]

Apprentice Adam and Hoffman back at it again with their bullshit

Mark may be guilty of eating hot chip and lying himself but he is NOT about to joke around on the clock.

[anonslash]

Forcemasc Adam Stanheight send tweet

[deadmans-corpse]

*Sits cross legged on the floor waiting patiently for hoffheight content*

[ollyollyartt]

this is only a test, detective (hofftits below)

tumblrs been eating posts on my saw blog so let's try this again

my saw/horror blog is @ollyollyaxel come talk abt the new jersey murder soap opera with me <3

[bananaterracotta-pie]

I'm questioning life rn