@heartfrosted // plotted
It’s not a sight anyone normally sees on the couch of STAR Labs. Beer bottles line the coffee table, and clearly someone had fallen asleep with one in his hand - it having gently rolled across the floor. Mick’s on his side, mouth open, snoring away. Spooned around the soft form of Killer Frost, his hand loosely around her waist.
Or it had been her when he’d passed out watching cheap television and drinking beer...














