I have a serious FrostIron problem - as regular readers of this blog may have noticed. I can't help it, ok? I ship the ship.I ship. The ship.
(Fangirl translation for the non-fangirl/fanboy fluent:
A ship is a wished-for romantic, often sexual, relationship, between two characters. Usually, these are characters of the same gender.
Occasionally there's a straight relationship in fanfiction - but it's not common.
'I ship the ship' means that I have bought into this relationship to what is probably an unhealthy level.)
So, yeah. FrostIron is Tony Stark and Loki's fandom relationship. I read far too many fics of this ship. It may even be my otp.
(Translation: 'One True Pairing' - that one (or many) ship(s) that you will defend and obsess over to your dying breath - melodramatic, yes. But this is fandom.)
I also read far too much Omegaverse for my own good/sanity/chances of not losing my soul to the fandom (yay!) I've explained Omegaverse before, so please read that post if you want to know more.
I am not explaining that again.
This week's fic then isssss (dramatic pause...)
of hormones and tinfoil hats by Arvensis5 and plumadesatada
This (oddly enough, given what I've been harking on about for the majority of this post,) is FrostIron Omegaverse. It is also excellent.
Given that my definition of 'excellent' when it comes to fanfiction has become a little blurry (you try reading this much warped fanfiction and not becoming just a little lenient and/or lightheaded!) it is still very good by any standards.
Seriously, this has been thought through, carefully executed, and well-written (barring the odd typo.) And it definitely makes you want to give Loki a big ol' hug!!! (Sigh, the feels.)
It also includes some pretty rockin' corresponding fanart.
Given that it's Omegaverse (and fanfiction in general,) there's a refreshing lack of explicit sex; there are a few depictions of the aftermath of torture though, so reader beware.
Given the title, I really would've loved if there were more tinfoil hats involved. But oh well, beggars can't be choosers and all that jazz (yay, mixed clichés!)
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