Here it is! Part One of my new fic States of Attraction or otherwise known as where my brain went as I was watching State of Origin last week!
This is an au where Oscar is a rugby league player and Lando is a streamer! Even if you don’t know anything about rugby league I hope you’ll give it a chance and enjoy it! I have added a glossary/helpful hints about the game in the end notes but feel free to ask me any questions if you need to! Enjoy 🧡🏉
States of Attraction - Game One
Summary:
Lando Norris arrives in Australia with his best mate expecting six weeks of travel content, tourist attractions and sponsor obligations.
Instead, he finds himself in the middle of State of Origin week with absolutely no understanding of what is happening, a growing collection of questions, and an increasing interest in the sport of rugby league that may or may not have to do with a certain player wearing the number nine jersey.
Oscar Piastri is one of the biggest rugby league players in Australia, and has spent years building a reputation as one of rugby league’s calmest leaders.
However his NRL team is having their worst season in years and Origin is about to start which means the next few weeks are going to be crazy with going in and out of training camps, media and fan events.
And yet somehow, an English streamer who thinks Origin is a cult becomes a far bigger distraction than he’d ever planned for.
i know that i’m an afl blog, but just a reminder that domestic violence rates skyrocket by 41% during state of origin
the rates of violence against australian women and children are horrifically high - and seem to be getting worse - and it’s so important to check in on your mates, especially if their home life is already not the safest xx
this little piece of pleasure is inspired a lot by State of Origin (up the blues! 🥳) and @kaymar814's States of Attraction (find here, highly recommend!).
I've fallen in love writing Lestapiastri because of my series 🫶🏼 hoping to release the first chapter soonish
Max was grumbling again.
His shoelaces were making it a mission to stay untied, ignoring how many times he'd double-knotted them. The bunny ears had played enough with the tree and criss-crossed it enough to catch a whole burrow. They never ended up beautiful and bold because somehow the ears had escaped through a hole that didn't exist.
He was ready to throw the boots across the locker room when the bench jolted with the impact of a body dumping itself unceremoniously onto the wooden slats.
"Good morning."
Max grumbled even more.
"It is absolutely not."
Oscar shrugged, pulling the tape from his bag to start on his wrists.
"The sun's out, better than the rain."
"I don't care." Max huffed, tugging harshly at the boot lace to start on try five hundred of tying them.
"We only have an hour of gym today."
Max swore under his breath. "Still don't care."
"The canteen had an edible new recipe of muffin."
Max inhaled harshly. "It tasted like they used salt instead of sugar."
Oscar stared at the tape starting to snake around his right wrist.
"Yeah… at least it resembled a muffin."
They both fell into silence, Max's frustration at the simple task of tying his shoelaces filling it. It didn't mean much; Oscar was more than used to the grouchy lock beside him.
Once his right wrist was completely covered in the tape, he looked back towards Max.
"Do you need me to teach you how to tie your laces again?"
Max shot him a warning look. "I'm not a child. It just keeps coming undone."
"Mhm."
"I think it's defective. Throwing a mutiny."
Oscar looked at the ragged laces, evidently been through a few tough training sessions and games. Max also wasn't the type to overly care for his boots. Yet, the laces weren't damaged that much.
"Uh-huh. Not the wearers fault or anything?"
Max stopped trying with the damned lace, throwing it down to stand and stare down at Oscar. He crossed his arms against his toned chest.
"I'll have you know, smartass, that-"
The door to the locker room slammed on its hinges, hitting the plaster wall behind it and shuddering from the impact.
Charles appeared beside them in a few seconds, carrying two smoothies, a Gatorade, and a muffin.
"I come bearing gifts!"
Oscar dived for the muffin and Gatorade, shoving half of the baked good in his mouth before the other two had a chance to react. Max looked at him, disgusted, while Charles looked offended.
"That was mine- anyway, here," he palmed off the other smoothie to Max.
Max took it, sipping at it before looking back at Charles.
"So… what about 'thanks Charles, your thoughtfulness is really touching!'"
Oscar snorted, muffin crumbs spraying onto his shorts.
"You only willingly get us stuff if you've done something wrong. What's the catch?"
Charles looked wounded. "What catch?"
Oscar raised an eyebrow, and Max scoffed.
"There is always a catch."
Charles pouted, opening his mouth to refute the statement before dropping his eyes to the ground.
"I may need someone to help convince Coach that it was not my fault that six balls landed in the tree yesterday…"
Max stared at him.
"Annnddd, there you go ladies and gentlemen." Oscar shoved the last part of the muffin in his mouth.
Charles whined. "It wasn't my fault!"
"How much of it was?"
Charles chewed his bottom lip. "Uh. About… sixty percent?"
Max raised his eyebrows.
"Okay! Maybe like eighty percent, but I was teaching banana kicks. The trees were just inconveniently placed!"
Oscar snorted. "Our halfback everybody."
Both Max and Oscar clapped half-heartedly.
Charles pouted again. "Stop it! You have such little confidence in me."
Max rolled his eyes, turning to walk back to his locker before half tripping on his untied shoelaces.
"Oh, for the sake of all!" Max cut out the words threatening to finish the sentence.
Oscar snorted, moving to grab the tape for the next wrist.
"You've been trying to tie that still?" Charles asked, perplexed.
"It is not my fault the bunny is having a tantrum."
Charles crouched, grabbing Max's boot and tying the lace quickly.
"Mhm."
Max glared at his boots. "Traitorous son of a-"
"Let's go!" Charles clapped, slurping his smoothie and walking out the locker room.
Glossary:
Lock (Max): The player that wears no. 13, essentially a third forward. They're usually one of the top tacklers in a team, controlling the midfield. They focus on size for tackling and passing skills of the back rowers.
Half-back (Charles): The player that wears no. 7, and is the main playmaker and tactical player of a team. They direct attack, structure, and make decisions on field. They are usually the primary kicker (long kicks, short attack kicks) and plan field position. They act as a link between the forwards and backs.
Banana kick: An attacking kick that curls in like a banana.
