#and immune response.

[ushealthrealsolutions]

Unlocking the Potential of CBD Oil: A Natural Remedy for Wellness

In recent years, CBD oil has gained significant attention for its potential health benefits, leading many to explore this natural remedy as a way to enhance their overall wellness. CBD, short for cannabidiol, is one of the many compounds found in the cannabis plant. Unlike its counterpart, THC (tetrahydrocannabinol), CBD is non-psychoactive, meaning it doesn't produce the "high" associated with marijuana. This quality has made CBD oil a promising option for those seeking relief from various ailments without the side effects typically associated with traditional medications.

CBD oil is commonly derived from industrial hemp, a cannabis variety containing minimal THC levels. Its popularity can be attributed to its potential to alleviate a range of symptoms, such as chronic pain, anxiety, depression, and even epilepsy. Research and anecdotal evidence suggest that CBD interacts with the body's endocannabinoid system, which plays a crucial role in regulating various bodily functions, including pain perception, mood, and immune response.

Furthermore, CBD oil is available in various forms, including tinctures, capsules, topicals, and edibles, allowing users to choose the most suitable method for their specific needs. It is essential to consult with a healthcare professional before incorporating CBD oil into your wellness routine, especially if you have underlying medical conditions or are taking other medications.

While the potential benefits of CBD oil are promising, it's important to remember that the industry is still evolving, and research is ongoing. As more studies are conducted, our understanding of CBD's full range of applications will likely expand. For those looking for a natural alternative to traditional treatments, CBD oil may hold the key to unlocking a healthier, more balanced life.

[royalarchivist]

Pac: Why is she sad? My god, she's devastated! Guaxinim?

Guaxinim: I think she wanted...

Gris: I want 100 reais.

Pac: She wants 100– [Laughs] She's sad because she wants 100 reais?

Guaxinim: [Innocently] You don't have 100 reais, do you?

Pac: [Laughs] I have negative 100 reais, Guaxinim. Gris, I'm just like you! I'm sad too.

Guaxinim: [Whispering to Gris] Cancel the plan, cancel the plan, go back to normal.

Pac: What do you mean? Wait, wait, wait– [Laughs] No no no–

First rule of passa tudo: make sure your target has money before trying to scam them! 😅 (Thank you to sebbs12 and disfrutalakia for double-checking my translations and transcript! The help is really appreciated!)

[Full Subtitle Transcript ↓ ]

—

Pac: [Gasps in delight] Oi, Guaxinim!

Guaxinim: Oi!

Pac: How cool it is to see you here! Oi Gris!

Guaxinim: Look, how cute.

Pac: How cute you and Gris are here!

Gris: oi :( I'm so sad.

Pac: Why is she sad?

Guaxinim: I don't know, man.

Pac: My god, she's devastated! Guaxinim?

Guaxinim: I think she wanted...

Gris: I want 100 reais.

Pac: She wants 100– [Laughs] She's sad because she wants 100 reais?

Guaxinim: [Innocently] You don't have 100 reais, do you?

Pac: [Laughs] I have negative 100 reais, Guaxinim. Gris, I'm just like you! I'm sad too.

Guaxinim: [Whispering to Gris] Cancel the plan, cancel the plan, go back to normal.

Pac: What do you mean? Wait, wait, wait– [Laughs] No no no–

Guaxinim: [Laughing]

Gris: kkkkkk

Pac: I can't believe what you're doing with poor Gris to get money!

Gris: bom dia tio Pac [Good morning Tio Pac]

Pac: Bom dia, bom dia. [Laughs] Seriously, how is a crazy plan like this going to work, huh? Insanity!

Guaxinim: [Dancing with Gris] Muahaha! Muahahaha! We're the most badass evil duo, got it?

Pac: How incredible, man. You guys are great, you're even in sync! Did you guys already get 100 reais?

[retirement-home-rumble]

Some Granny Weatherwax propaganda:

- Literally lives in the village of Bad Ass.

- Was bitten by some vampires once; they all started craving tea and cookies.

- Intimidated Death into losing a card game against her.

- Had a staring match against the sun, for multiple hours; only stopped because she heard a child crying.

- Always knows who and where she is.

- Grabbed a sword by the blade and 'didn't have time to get cut by it'

- Set a voodoo doll of herself on fire by sticking her hand into a torch.

- Did not run with the bulls; forced them to run away instead.

Bonus Nanny Ogg Propaganda:

- Rules the Ogg clan with an iron fist

- Brews her own alcohol strong enough to dissolve metal

- Can crack coconuts with her thighs

- Rumored to be even smarter than Granny Weatherwax

- Had a farmhouse land on her head ala The Wizard of Oz, and was fine

- Owns Greebo, a four legged demon in the shape of a cat.

Bonus Bonus Greebo Propaganda:

- Has killed at least two vampires.

- Said to be the single male ancestor of every cat in a wide radius

- Can turn into a human; he still has his claws in this shape

They sound so iconic honestly

[volitioncheck]

does near every single post-canon DE fic out there need to be tagged ‘Sober Harry Du Bois’? i’m getting so tired of it.

do i expect every single piece of fan content to have to fully delve into the often-depressing always-complex topic of addiction? not really. sometimes you just want to write/read a silly fluffy romance one-shot, whatever. i get it. but i think my issue is specifically with the fact that for nearly every sillyfluffy au out there, there almost must be a ‘sober harry du bois’ tag. and it does feel very slapped-on more often than not.

i think to me it is an unconscious statement that nothing *good* can ever happen to harry du bois until he is completely and permanently sober. before solving the next big case, he has to be sober. before quitting the force, he has to be sober. before falling in love with kim, he has to be sober. before accomplishing anything, starting any sort of recovery, making any life improvement, he must first be sober.

sobriety as a goal, as a journey, and honestly as a concept in of itself is not as cut and dry as so many people think it is. and i think it would serve a lot of people well if they did some introspection on the implications of how nearly every single post-canon fic that isn’t dealing directly with harry’s addiction have him as completely sober instead.

if the plot of the fic isn’t going to touch directly on harry’s substance use (and again, i’m not demanding that every single fic should), why does that mean that sober!harry must be the default?

i think i am just tired of reading a casefic, a smutty one-shot, a fantasy au, whatever, where it almost seems that before getting on with the plot, the author feels obligated to first assure us that the harry we’re reading about is a Sober Harry. it’s established with a couple lines in the exposition, probably about his improved appearance, a tag up top, and then never brought up again; a checkmarked box. like the societal image of An Addict has completely prevented people from being able to imagine a person just, continuing to live life, while still struggling with addiction.

life happens, with all of its backslides and achievements, mundanity and changes, to people with drug addictions just as much as people who don’t. is a post-canon harry who isn’t sober not worth writing about?

i think so. i think the game we all played thinks so too. in fact i think that sentiment is woven into the game’s very core. i just wish i saw that reflected in our fan content more.

[poorlittleyaoyao]

oppressing the bestie with angry Episode 49 texts because NOBODY! IS MAD! AT THE RIGHT THINGS!

[feroluce]

So I adore time loops and I think Sampo would be very fun in a time loop AU. Because despite having so many onscreen interactions with so many characters, he almost always seems to hold people at a certain careful distance, so it's fun to imagine what or who he's willing to use a time loop for, how far he's willing to go, how much he actually does care.

At the end of the Masquerade Duet companion quest, Sparkle mentions a catastrophe soon to befall Jarilo-VI. And some players have interpreted this as a past event (the catastrophe being the story quests we took part in there), but other players have speculated this as an upcoming disaster that Sampo is trying to mitigate.

And so, Gepard finds Sampo in Belobog, right after he was supposed to return from Penacony...or whatever it was called, Gepard had almost been too relieved to remember the name after Natasha assured him that Sampo was fine and not missing or dead, just on a trip since the planet was finally open for travel.

He had assumed this was some kind of vacation, or some shady business endeavor (valid), but when he sees him, Sampo looks. Exhausted.

His usual smirk is there, but there's something horribly off about it that Gepard can't put into words. His voice doesn't have the usual bounce in it. His gait slightly off. There are bags under his eyes, his hair is just the slightest bit out of place. Sampo looks exhausted.

His feet move without him really thinking, he goes up to Sampo to say...something. Maybe just ask him if he's ok. But he can't leave this alone and not do anything, because Gepard can feel it, something is wrong.

And that feeling sticks with him, like the persistent cold, like frostbite, all day. Gepard can't seem to shake it. There is a collective unease seeping through Belobog, sinking deep, tangling around their bones. And the only one who seems to be reacting truly different to it is Sampo.

Gepard tries to tail the guy a few times, anything he can do to learn about what's going on and ease this devouring dread, but Sampo seems to know where he's hiding and calls him out every single time.

He dodges every question (normal), slips out of every grab and grasp (normal), barely even looks at Gepard (decidedly NOT normal).

And maybe it's the darkness that seems to hover over them. The way the air feels like it is pressing down and smothering the breath out of his lungs. But Gepard's patience finally snaps, much sooner than he ever would have thought it would, and he finally grabs Sampo by the collar, hauls him up and forces his back against the brick wall of the alleyway. Because maybe Sampo makes his living double crossing and stabbing backs and he wouldn't understand this, but Gepard has a family, he has people he wants to protect, and so he needs to know what the fuck is going on.

And he knows he's crossed a line the moment he says it. He knows it's not true. Gepard has seen the way Sampo and Caelus sneak around in the Fragmentum or meander down the alleys, snickering with their arms slung around each other. He's seen the way Sampo lets Hook climb up his back onto his shoulders while he takes the moles on little adventures. He's seen the way he and Serval rib each other like it was natural, easy, and the way he goes out of his way for Natasha like he wouldn't any other client, had even trusted her with the knowledge that he was leaving off-planet.

Sampo has people he wants to protect, too, and Gepard shouldn't have accused him otherwise.

But before he can even apologize, Sampo does something stranger still.

Instead of telling him off, or taking a swing at him- both things Gepard would admit he deserved- Sampo just. Lifts one hand, lays it over Gepard's fists still balled in his jacket. Like he's keeping him there. Even through his gloves, his hand is warm.

And Sampo doesn't even really look at him, he leaves his head hung low as he quietly tells Gepard to just go home. Stay in with his family. Don't come out. Please. Please.

But eventually, the catastrophe strikes.

And Gepard can't. He can't stay safe inside his home while this is happening. He can't ignore this. He tells Serval and Lynx to stay in. Don't come out. And he dons his armor and marches out to protect as many people as he can.

When it's all said and done, all Gepard can see is rubble piled around him and a blackened sky. He can hear fire crackling. He can hear a voice he recognizes as Serval's wailing and screaming his name, and he knows she's not going to find him in time. She shouldn't even be out here.

A bloodied face swims into view, bright green eyes looking hollowed and haunted, posture weary and defeated. Gepard reaches out a shaking arm, trying to grab at Sampo's pantleg, trying to make any sound other than gurgling the blood filling his throat, because he knows it for certain now, he knew, Sampo knew.

"Not this time either, huh...?" The sigh he heaves isn't theatrical, for once. Somewhere, rubble groans and loudly collapses. Sampo doesn't even startle or turn to look at it. "I'll figure it out soon, I promise. There has to be a way to pull you through this alive. There has to be."

Something materializes in his hand, something red. Gepard's vision dims at the edges as he watches Sampo hold the mask over his face, as it seemingly attaches itself directly to his skin.

"See you on the next go around, Captain."

[froody]

why are piercings so Stanky

[omg-snakes]

Chammers was named as a joke about a joke about a fulfillment platform software product that no longer exists.

Now I'm going to rehome him, and his new family will probably rename him. They won't know why he was ever called Chammers.

Will they even wonder?

[shit-people-probably-didnt-say]

Wylan: Our son brings endless joy and love into our lives, and also a variety of bacteria and other pathogens…

Jesper: Its fair to say he’s patient zero for 99% of the illnesses in this house

[firstkanaphans]

i have this habit of reading ao3 before i sleep or i just won't get sleep (yeah i am a teenager with effed up sleep habits)

and i realised that there are not enough sickfics in the firstkhao fandom 😭😭 like there are a few under akkaye but nothing under sandray (i don't remember if there is anything under alangaipa cause there is probably nothing)

so obviously i have a request to my fav writer which is PLEASE GIVE ME SICKFICS DJDNDNNSJDND

the absolute tenderness of looking after your lover, trying to shield them from it all and them just clinging on to you... I WILL CRY

i would love to read any sickfic from you, be it any fk couple. hope you dont mind this request <3

Anon, I really hope you're still around to read this because I know it's been ages since you requested it, but look! I wrote you a SandRay sick!fic. I hope you enjoy 💕 Word Count: 2227

Ray was sick. Or, well, he had been. 

For days he had been fighting off a bad case of the flu and although he had a tendency to become extra stubborn when he was ill, Sand took care of him without argument. He cooked Ray delicious homemade soup, washed the sweat from his body so that he wouldn’t get a chill, and made sure he never missed a dose of his medicine.

At the height of his illness, Ray had found Sand’s unwavering attention annoying since all he wanted to do was sleep, but now, as the fever started to abate, he realized just how lucky he had been. It didn’t seem fair that all of that attention had been wasted when Ray wasn’t alert enough to appreciate it. So even though he was feeling better, he pretended that he wasn’t.

He was sitting in bed propped up on a mountain of pillows when Sand walked into the room that night with his evening meds. Ray gave him a wobbly smile and then immediately dissolved into a coughing fit that was only half for show.

Sand frowned, setting the glass of water and pills he was carrying down onto Ray’s bedside table before climbing onto the mattress with him, his hand raised to feel Ray’s forehead. Ray just watched him, wide-eyed and innocent. He knew his cheeks were flushed, but it wasn’t from fever. He had spent the past couple minutes pinching them hard enough to color his skin. He wanted it to look convincing.

“You’re not feeling any better?” Sand asked, dropping his hand back to his side. “You look better. Whenever I touched you before, you would just yell and swat me away.”

“I feel a little better,” Ray allowed, blinking at his boyfriend owlishly.

“Well, if you’re not feeling a lot better by tomorrow, we may need to go back to the doctor. I’m worried about you.”

“There’s no need to worry,” Ray said, pulling on Sand’s arm so that he was forced to sit down on the bed next to him. “I’m fine!”

If this had been a normal day, Sand probably would have rolled his eyes, but because Ray was sick, he didn’t. He just wrapped his arm around Ray’s shoulders and held him tight. Although Ray liked their usual teasing banter, he liked this too. He liked being spoiled. He liked that Sand had been staying home to take care of him instead of running off to a bunch of different jobs he didn’t need. He liked how his illness sanded down Sand’s rough edges. He liked that at their essence, this was what they were: soft and in love. “Do we have any more ice cream?”

Sand dutifully brought Ray a bowl of ice cream and they spent the night cuddling in bed watching movies. Ray knew it was destined to be his last night of sick leave; in the morning, he would be forced to make a miraculous recovery. But, he had to admit, it was time.

Ray woke up with the sun only to find that Sand was still asleep next to him, which was odd. Sand was an early riser. Figuring he was simply exhausted from the days spent taking care of Ray, Ray leaned in to kiss him on the forehead only to find that he was burning up. 

Ray pulled back in alarm, quickly replacing his lips with his hand, but the result was no better. Sand was sweltering hot to the touch. Too hot. Right? Ray wasn’t sure. He had never had to diagnose anyone before.

“Sand?” he said, shaking his boyfriend frantically. Sand would know what to do. Sand always did. “Sand, wake up. I think you’re sick!”

Sand very clearly did not want to wake up. He rolled away from Ray, buried his head underneath the covers, and started coughing. “Just bring me some medicine,” he said, his voice muffled. “I’ll be fine.”

Ray hopped out of bed immediately, determined to get the medicine for him as fast as possible, but it was only as he was standing alone in the middle of the room that he realized he had no idea where the medicine was kept. They had moved into this apartment together only a few weeks before. It would have been sooner, but Sand took some convincing because the apartment was technically way out of his budget.

In the end, Ray had worn him down, but Sand had adamantly refused to spend the extra money on movers, so they had done everything themselves. Or, well, Sand had. Ray had thanked him with copious amounts of blowjobs. It had seemed like a good system at the time, but now he had no idea where anything was.

He wandered into the bathroom and began looking through cabinets, figuring that was the most likely place for medicine to be, and eventually he found a couple bottles that looked familiar. They were empty.

Ray ran back into the bedroom, waving the bottles around frantically. “Sand, I think we’re out. What do I do now? Sand?” Sand was apparently too delirious to answer him. He wasn’t yet asleep, but his only response to Ray’s voice was a pained groan. Ray stared down at the bottles in his hand hoping that if he wished hard enough, they would simply refill themselves. But of course they didn’t.

It was then that Ray remembered Sand offering him a handful of pills the night before that Ray had only pretended to take since he was only pretending to be sick. He rushed over to his bedside table and pulled the pills out of his drawer.

“Sand, here,” he said excitedly, coming around to his side of the bed with a glass of water. “You need to take these.”

With some gentle coaxing, he was eventually able to get Sand to sit up and take the pills, but he looked horrible and collapsed back down onto the mattress immediately. Ray just stared at him helplessly, trying to figure out what in the world he was supposed to do next.

He thought about calling Sand’s mom or his own dad or, hell, Mew—literally anyone who might be able to help—but his pride stopped him from actually picking up the phone. Sand had taken care of him for nearly a week without any help at all. Surely, Ray could do the same. 

He took a deep breath and forced himself to think. The first thing he needed to do was buy more medicine.

“Sand? Sand?” he asked, shaking his boyfriend’s limp body. He had planned to ask whether Sand would be okay alone for a few minutes while he ran to the store, but Sand didn’t respond. He was fast asleep. In the end, Ray decided to go. He changed clothes, made sure Sand’s phone and a glass of water were easily within his reach, and then promised he would be back in fifteen minutes. As he stepped out their front door, he couldn’t help but think Sand would probably be better off alone than in his inept care.

Ray realized his first mistake within minutes: he had not taken a picture of the meds he needed to replace. When he reached the pharmacy right around the corner from their apartment, he was immediately overwhelmed by the options and he had no clue what Sand needed. He tried googling it only to become overwhelmed again, but in the end, a nice older lady helped him pick out a couple things she thought would be useful and Ray threw a few extras into his basket as well. Just in case.

When he returned home, Sand hadn’t moved, but he was shivering and covered in sweat, so Ray grabbed a washcloth and a basin of water and did his best to clean him. It wasn’t as easy as Sand made it look. His motions were clumsy and he felt sure that if Sand were conscious enough to know what was happening, he would have laughed at his efforts.

After that, Ray bundled Sand back into bed and headed into the kitchen to make soup for the first time in his life. On the night Ray had first fallen ill, Sand had made him a pot of soup that tasted so good he had devoured it within a day. It was Sand’s mom’s recipe and she claimed it had healing powers. Ray didn’t doubt it. Sand told him his mom’s soup was the one bright spot of getting sick. That it almost made the whole thing worth it. So Ray knew he needed to make it for Sand, too.

He had texted Sand’s mom and picked up the ingredients while he was out, but now that he was staring at them spread out over the counter, he felt less confident about his ability to recreate the recipe. There was nothing he could do about that now. He sighed and got started chopping the vegetables. Badly. Sand did most of the cooking in their house. Ray was starting to realize that Sand did most of everything.

Hours later, the finished soup was simmering on the stove and Ray smelled like a Thai restaurant. He quickly hopped in the shower, washing off the last vestiges of his own illness and the evidence of his poor cooking, and then headed back to the bedroom where Sand was still asleep. He held his hand out to feel Sand's forehead and although his body temperature felt more normal than before, he was still shivering. 

Ray didn’t know what else to do so, feeling helpless, he simply laid by his boyfriend’s side and wrapped his arms around him, praying that the worst of it would soon go away. Was this what it had felt like for Sand to watch him be sick over the past week? Had Ray only prolonged that pain by pretending he wasn’t well? 

The shivering stopped. They both fell asleep.

Ray was awoken some time later by Sand moving in his arms. He sat up immediately, ready to run and fetch whatever Sand needed to feel better, but when Sand finally opened his eyes, he no longer looked pained. Just tired. 

“Are you okay?” Ray asked, reaching for Sand’s face as if searching for an injury he already knew didn’t exist. “What do you need? Medicine? Water? Food? I made soup!”

Ray was cursing himself for not setting alarms for Sand’s medicine the way Sand had done for him when Sand gave him a weak smile. “You made soup?” he teased and that, at least, told Ray the medicine was working.

“I did!” Ray insisted.

“Well then some soup might be nice.”

So Ray hopped out of bed and prepared a bowl of soup for Sand. When he returned to the bedroom, he found Sand already sitting propped up on a couple pillows, taking better care of himself than Ray had taken of him.

“You look better,” he said.

“I feel better,” Sand agreed.

“I’m sorry I got you sick.”

Sand shrugged. “It was bound to happen. Now about this soup…”

Ray refused to pass Sand the bowl, scared he might drop it, but he dutifully scooped a spoonful of Tom Yum out and offered it to him. Sand sniffed it hesitantly before taking a bite.

The soup had barely touched his tongue before his whole face scrunched up in distaste. He quickly tried to school his features, but it was too late. Such an extreme reaction was hard to miss.

“What’s wrong?” Ray asked, trying a bite himself. All he could taste was salt. He made the same face Sand had and suddenly, he felt like he was going to cry.

“Oh, don't cry,” Sand said, taking the bowl from him, setting it down on the bedside table, and then pulling him into a hug. Even though Ray was no longer sick and certainly didn’t deserve the comfort, he let himself be held anyway.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice thick with unshed tears. “I’m such a crappy boyfriend. You took such good care of me for a whole week and I can’t even make you a pot of soup without fucking it up. I haven’t even been sick these past couple days. I’ve just been pretending so you would pay more attention to me!”

“Oh, baby. I know.”

That was enough to stop Ray’s tears. “You do?”

“Of course I do. You’re not a very good liar. But look, it’s fine. It’s the thought that counts,” he said, running his fingers through Ray’s hair. Surprisingly, that was all it took to calm him down.

“I’ll get better,” Ray promised, leaning his head on Sand’s shoulder. “And I’ll order you more soup from that place you like.”

“You’re doing fine,” Sand soothed. “Just stay here with me. That’s all I need. You’re all I need.”

Ray laid with his head on Sand’s chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. “I love you,” he said because that was the one thing he knew he could provide. He had more than enough love to give.

Sand smiled and kissed the top of his head. “I love you too.”

[touchlikethesun]

okay so. don’t crucify me. but su she and jin guangyao do actually make some pretty compelling points.

[bpod-bpod]

Interior Redesigners

Triggered to attack, T cells of the immune system bind their target molecule via a specific receptor on their surface – named? you guessed it, the T-cell receptor. This interaction sparks activity reorganising the T cell's inner protein scaffold (cytoskeleton) enabling optimal contact and function. Here are revealed the roles of cellular enzymes (LMK1 & SSH1) in orchestrating the structural remodelling and T-cell activation

Read the published research article here

Video from work by Álvaro Gómez-Morón and Sergio Alegre-Gómez, and colleagues

Department of Immunology, Ophthalmology and ENT, School of Medicine, Universidad Complutense de Madrid, Madrid, Spain

Video originally published with a Creative Commons Attribution – NonCommercial – NoDerivs (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0)

Published in Communications Biology, July 2024

You can also follow BPoD on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook

[swagging-back-to]

it should be a cut and dry case if you go to a restaurant and get glutened by them. and by case i mean criminal. not just suing for damages and distress.

[retirement-home-rumble]

Both Stan and Ford canonically have big naturals. Stan in the carla diner flashback and Ford during backupsmore orientation. Stan fans, release the screenshots

Ah

[oolathurman]

<Stim Please> and <Down With Sith Bus> is live!

Finally, you don't have to log out in an unsafe area (aka any cishet/white/ableist guild). Or log into one, for that matter.

<Stim Please> (pub) and its sister guild <Down With Sith Bus> (imp) on Star Forge dedicated to creating an actually safe space in-game -- and out.

Benefits include a discord server, the Nar Shaddaa pub side stronghold and Rishi imp side stronghold, no inactivity limits, alt toon parking, 5-10% xp bonus (depending on faction) and repair allowances (no more out of pocket like the US healthcare system \o/)! Also, you don't have to group with randos anymore?!

DM me for a discord invite!

[uncanny-tranny]

The response to transphobia is not to perpetuate other forms of bigotry. It is never okay to be racist, Islamophobic, Antisemetic, fatphobic, sexist or intersexist, any combination of the above or with any other form of bigotry when somebody is transphobic.

Combating transphobia can look like admonishing transphobic arguments made by somebody, but it is never a pass to be bigoted yourself. It is just as bad to be racist as it is to be bigoted against any other group.

Trans liberation will never be achieved through stomping on other groups. It is understandable to be angry about transphobia. It is not understandable to use that anger as a justification to be bigoted. You will find trans people in those same groups - you will find Black trans people, trans Muslims, trans Jews, intersex trans people, fat trans people, literally any type of trans person because we don't have a universal "look".