Insecure - Tom Hiddleston Imagines Geared Towards Battling Insecurities

LGBTQAI+, Religion

A/N: Okay, I've been getting this one a LOT in one form or another. For all intents and purposes, I'm going to base this on an experience that happened.  Unlike the other imagines, where "double-titling" usually means two different stories, this one is a combination of both; this one is both insecurities combined.

I purposefully didn't say how the main individual sexually identifies to broaden the spectrum of who this can apply to, as well as the endless possibilities and combinations of people that can relate, and I kept them gender neutral for the same reasons. Also, I specifically didn't say which religion for the female character because there are tens of thousands (30,000 in just Christianity alone, last I heard), perhaps hundreds of thousands of different religions.

Basically, I am vague on purpose.  Take it as you will.

~

Why do they all laugh at me?

You stare in the mirror, adjusting yet another sports bra into place.  You hated this things, this lobs of sexualized fat gallivanting on your chest. What was so attractive about having breasts? The milk they produce isn't for the purpose for another adult, so why are they marketed for someone else's pleasure?

"D*ke."

What did that even mean? Whoever said that "d*ke" had to mean someone who seemingly appears to be a girl, despite having short hair and a tomboy, perhaps thuggish, appearance, and likes girls? Whoever gave someone permission to say that if you dress that way, you are to like girls? Whoever gave some other human being permission to define me when I'm stilling finding out who you are myself?

Why do they all laugh at me?

This bra isn't tight enough.

The elastic of the bra tightens around your collarbone as you lift it up, in need of tightening the bands underneath. It hurt more than usual, for underneath lay the bruises of the morning, not just mental but physical.

You would think, after all these movements for civil rights, women's rights, and disability rights movements as well as their ongoing issues, that people would get the point and stop the violence. You would think they would get it by now that just because you can hurt an individual does not give you the indiscriminable right to. You would think that those movements would inspire and not perspire, that it would mean to start treating other people like the human beings they are and not like animals to be put down and put in place.

You would think humanity would be something greater than this.

It's no surprise that people stare at you as you walk from the bathroom to your dorm. People were always looking, always wondering what was going on in your head, reducing you to a screw-up, weird, and--

And you couldn't finish your examining of people's faces as your own met the ground. You tasted blood as a shoe met your mouth and coughed as another met your stomach.

"Please, stop," you sputter out, red staining the sidewalk.

"Why don't you call your girlfriend," a voice mocks, picking you up and shoving your back into a building wall. You could now see the attackers face, as well as two others. You had heard they would attack people of the LGBTQ+ community, but they would always get excused, their actions covered up by reasons unknown. You always thought it was for the school's reputation so they could receive more funding, more money, wanting to mute the violence so the name attracts wealthy families who may otherwise stay away, deeming "f*gs" and "d*kes" and "q*eers" and others like the Bubonic Plague.

You feel sleek metal slash at your shoulder, three new bras wasted as the straps are cut right through. Everything you were trying to hide now sagging as you're thrown to the ground. Everything you spent five years working on, building yourself up to the point of having enough, but still incomplete courage, to step outside and display who you think you are to others, all gone with a single swoop.

You don't want to cry, but at this point, you're reduced to the point of not having a choice.

Where's Tom when you need him?

"Leave them alone."

You recognized that voice. You didn't hear it often, but you knew it was there. As you strain to turn your head, you can see that it's her, the religious girl. She's rarely on campus, but there she was, still walking close.

"Stay out of this."

"They need to go get some medical attention."

Not listening to their empty threats, she comes over, putting your arm around her shoulders and she picks you up gently.

"Can you walk?"

You try to, but your ankle's twisted. You shake your head.

"Well, no matter, we'll get you there."

You've heard of her religion before. In fact, you've slammed the door on them a few times. Simply put, they didn't agree with your thinking, sticking to her text's views on the matter of sexual orientation. So why on earth would she help you?

It's not until you're nearing the building that you speak to her.

"Why?"

She turns to you. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

"Why would you help me? You hate me."

With confused eyes, she shakes her head. "I don't hate you. What have I done to make you think—"

"Your religion...it doesn't believe in...well..." You go silent, trailing off your thought, but knowing she knows what you were going to say.

With a kind smile, she answers, "I may not agree with your lifestyle, but you're still a human. I may not condone what you do, but I care for you and respect you as an individual, nothing will ever take that away. I do not have the right to say that I can't help you out when you're in need just because we have different beliefs. Just like I may not agree with your conduct doesn't mean I agree with you being beat up for it, especially when my own people are undergoing the same treatment around the world."

As she checks you in, she doesn't leave until she helps you into the campus security vehicle and helps you to your dorm along with the other security personnel.

But you did learn one thing:

Maybe Tom won't show up. Maybe you'll never meet him in your lifetime, maybe he's not your knight in shining armor, maybe he'll never say you from yourself. Perhaps he's just another actor that you'll only see in paparazzi snapshots and photoshoots in magazines. But there are Tom-like people out there, and that's the important thing. And maybe, sometimes, it's those around you who you need to think twice about.

And, sometimes, you have to be one to find one.

~

I censored some of the terms because, while some embrace them, others think they are degrading like the "n" word for Afros, the "s" word for those who are Native American / Indian (and the other "s" word for those of those affiliations who are female), the "r" or "s" words for those with disabilities/those who are disabled, etc. I wanted to be as accurate of a free-write as possible, so that's why they're in there to begin with. I hope I haven't offended anyone.