Matilda's Imagines

Identity

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting long golden streaks across the field as the Matildas wrapped up their evening training. Inside the team's media room, Y/n sat hunched over a laptop, editing a highlight reel for the team's social media. The faint sound of cleats on pavement filtered through the open window, but Y/n barely noticed. His thoughts were elsewhere—far away from the laughter and camaraderie outside.

For months, a storm had brewed inside him, one he didn't quite know how to articulate. He had grown up in chaos, foster homes that rarely felt like home, with adults who only saw him as a temporary responsibility. Joining the Matildas as their media manager at 16 had been a lifeline. Though he wasn't on the field, he had found family in these women who had embraced him as their own. Yet, as the months passed, Y/n had felt increasingly at odds with himself, caught in the crosshairs of his identity.

The truth was simple, even if saying it felt impossible: Y/n didn't see himself as "her." He wanted to go by he/him pronouns and a name that felt right. But how could he explain that? What if this family—the only one he'd ever known—didn't understand?

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, the knot in his chest tightening as his thoughts spiraled.

"Oi, media wizard!" Kyra's loud, cheerful voice broke through his reverie as the door to the media room slammed open. She strode in, still in her training gear, hair damp with sweat and a mischievous grin on her face. "Got any embarrassing footage of Mini I can use for blackmail? Or, better yet, Alanna tripping over the ball again?"

Y/n rolled his eyes, his lips twitching into a small smile. "Not a chance. Mini would murder me if I posted anything like that."

Kyra groaned dramatically and flopped into the chair next to him. "You're no fun." She nudged him with her foot, her expression softening as she studied him. "What's up with you, kid? You've been acting all... I dunno, quiet lately."

"I'm fine," Y/n lied, avoiding her gaze.

"Liar," Kyra shot back immediately. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "C'mon, Y/n. Spill. You know I'm like the cool older sister, right? You can tell me anything."

Y/n hesitated, his heart pounding. He wanted to tell her—tell all of them—but the words felt too big, too fragile. "I'll... think about it," he said finally.

Kyra didn't push. She just gave him a knowing look and ruffled his hair. "Fine, but don't wait too long. I'll annoy the truth out of you if I have to."

That evening, Y/n sat on his bed, staring at the wall, when there was a soft knock on the door.

"Y/n? It's Mini. Can I come in?"

Y/n swallowed hard and nodded, though she couldn't see him. Mini stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Her presence was calm, grounding, a stark contrast to the whirlwind energy of Kyra or Macca.

"You seemed off today," Mini said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Y/n's throat tightened. He trusted Mini more than anyone, but the fear of rejection still loomed large. "I... I don't know how to say this," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mini reached out, resting a hand on his knee. "Take your time, love. I'm here."

He took a shaky breath, his hands trembling in his lap. "I don't think I'm... I don't think I'm a girl," he said finally, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I want to go by he/him pronouns and a new name. But I don't know if anyone will... understand."

Mini's expression softened, her eyes filling with nothing but warmth and love. "Oh, sweetheart," she said gently. "Thank you for telling me. That's such a brave thing to share."

Y/n blinked back tears, relief mixing with disbelief. "You're not... upset?"

"Upset?" Mini shook her head, smiling. "Y/n, you're still you. Whether you're he, she, or they, we love you just the same. And I can promise you, the rest of the team will feel the same way."

Y/n let out a shaky laugh, tears slipping down his cheeks. "I was so scared you'd think it's stupid."

"Never," Mini said firmly. She pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly. "We've got your back, no matter what."

The next morning, Mini called for an impromptu team meeting. The players, fresh from their showers and dressed in various states of post-training laziness, gathered in the lounge, curious about the announcement.

Mini stood at the front, her arm draped around Y/n's shoulders. "Alright, everyone," she began, her voice steady and calm. "Y/n has something he'd like to share."

Y/n's heart pounded as he stepped forward, the team's eyes on him. "I, um... I want to start using he/him pronouns," he said, his voice trembling. "And maybe a new name. I've been feeling this way for a while, but I didn't know how to tell you."

For a moment, the room was silent. Then, Kyra broke it with an excited whoop, leaping to her feet. "Hell yeah, little bro!" She tackled him in a hug, nearly knocking him over.

The rest of the team quickly followed suit, showering him with hugs, cheers, and words of encouragement.

"What name are you thinking?" Alanna asked, grinning. "Because we're definitely putting it on a jersey."

"And if anyone gives you crap about it," Caitlin added, cracking her knuckles, "they'll have to deal with us."