#domestic violent relationships

[batboyblog]

Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #33

Sep 6-13 2024

President Biden marked the 30th anniversary of the passage of the Violence Against Women Act and highlighted efforts to stop gender based violence. the VAWA was written by then Senator Biden and he often talks about it as his proudest legislative victory. The act transformed how the federal government dealt with domestic violence, sexual assault, and stalking. In part because of the connection to Joe Biden, President Trump and the Republicans allowed the VAWA to expire in 2019. President Biden passed a new reauthorization, with new protections for women against cyber crime, in 2022. On the VAWA's 30th anniversary President Biden announced $690 million in grants to support survivors of gender-based violence.

President Biden and Vice-President Harris announced a new rule to force insurance companies to treat mental health care the same as medical care. The new rule takes on the use by insurance of restrictive practices like prior authorization, and out of network charges, it also closes a loophole in the law that allowed state and local government health insurance not to cover mental health.

The Biden-Harris administration announced that 50 million Americans, 1 in every 7, have gotten health insurance through Obamacare's marketplaces. Under Biden a record breaking 20.8 million enrolled this year. Since the ACA was passed by President Obama and then Vice-President Biden it has transformed American health care bring affordable coverage to millions and getting rid of "preexisting conditions". During the Presidential debate Vice-President Harris defended the ACA and the need to keep building on it. Trump after 9 years of calling for its repeal said he only had "concepts of a plan" on what to do about health care in America.

The IRS announced that it has recovered $1.3 billion in back taxes from wealthy tax dodgers. For years Republicans have tried to underfund the IRS hindering its ability to police high income tax payers. President Biden in his Inflation Reduction Act ensured that the IRS would have the money it needs to chase high income tax cheats. In February 2024 the IRS launched a program to go after over 100,000 people, making $400,000 or even over $1 million a year who have not filed taxes since 2017. The IRS also launched a program to collect from tax payers who make over $1 million a year who have uncontested debt of over $250,000. Between these two efforts the IRS has collected over a Billion Dollars in back taxes from the richest Americans, so far this year.

The Department of The Interior and White House Climate Advisor Ali Zaidi highlighted green energy efforts on public land. Highlighting two projects planned in Nevada officials talked about the 41 renewable energy projects approved on public land under the Biden-Harris Administration. These projects over 25 gigawatts of clean energy, a goal the Administration's climate plan set for the end of 2025 but met early this year. With the new projects in Nevada this is enough energy to power 12.5 million homes, and the Bureau of Land Management is another 55 utility-scale project proposals across the West.

The Department of The Interior announced $236 million to help fight forest fires and restore landscapes damaged by recent wildfires. Under President Biden's Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, the Administration has spent nearly $1.1 billion dollars to combat deadly wildfires which have over the last 10 years grown in size and intensity thanks to climate change.

The Department of The Interior announced $157 million in wetland conservation. The money is focused on protecting bird habitats. It will protect and preserve thousands of acres of wetlands across 7 states.

The US Senate approved President Biden's nominations of Adam Abelson, Jeannette Vargas, Mary Kay Lanthier, and Laura Provinzino to federal judgeships in Maryland, New York, Vermont, and Minnesota respectively. This brings the total number of federal judges appointed by President Biden to 209. When Biden entered office 318 district judges were Republican appointees and 317 Democratic, today 368 are Democratic appointments and just 267 are Republican. President Biden is the first President in history to have the majority of his appointments not be white men and he has appointed more black women to the bench than any President ever.

[stfulara]

all this fiasco around 'it ends with us' has made me lose the love I had for Blake Lively- dude branding a movie abt DV as the romcom of the year is just sick and twisted and promoting your new brand instead of actually taking about the issue what are we 2???? lol they even mean girl-ed Justin Baldoni who actually wants to talk about the real issue here- and there's this deadpool x wolverine x it ends with us drama

the fact that young adults would actually romanticize this shitshow is so disheartening, normalizing domestic violence is NOT OKAY

[lila-lou]

✨Lesson learned✨

Summary: You upset your boyfriend by dancing with another guy, so he sets out to teach you how to behave.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader (DARK)

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, kinda Rape, Language, Angst, Hurt, Manipulation, Violence, Humiliation - it´s just pure darkness

Word Count: 5168

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The relationship with Ben had always been a rollercoaster ride, filled with highs and lows that left you dizzy and disoriented. When you first started dating, you held onto the hope that he would change, that maybe the glimpses of softness he showed were a sign of something deeper. But as time went on, it became painfully clear that his misogynistic tendencies ran deep, overshadowing any progress he made. It was a constant tug-of-war between his moments of kindness and his ignorant behavior, leaving you feeling drained and uncertain about your future together.

So again, as you stood in front of him at the bar, a hand gently resting on his shoulder, you mustered up the courage to ask, “Ben, come dance with me?”. You nodded towards Kimiko and Frenchie on the dance floor, their laughter and joy infectious.

Ben grumbled a terse "No", his irritation palpable in the air. But undeterred, you tried again, hoping to break through the barrier he had erected between you. "Please, just one dance", you insisted, your voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

However, before you could finish your plea, Ben snapped at you, his tone cutting through the music and laughter around you. "I said no, can't you listen for once?". His words stung, leaving you feeling small and defeated once again.

You tried not to let anyone see that his snapping hurt you, so you overplayed it with a nod and a soft smile. While Ben took a sip of his whiskey, you sat back down beside him, your eyes fixed on the dance floor. Annie and Huggies were dancing too, their happiness a stark contrast to the tension between you and Ben. With a sigh, you realized that once again, you and Ben were alone in your own little world of strained communication and unspoken frustrations.

You bit your lip, bouncing your leg up and down, while Ben's focus remained glued to his phone. You were happy that he had even agreed to join you and your friends at the bar, but right now, you kinda wished he hadn’t come. He didn't talk to you, didn't dance with you, nothing. The silence between you was heavy, filled only with the sounds of the lively bar.

You sighed, unable to hide your disappointment, and it earned a snarky comment from Ben. "What's with the dramatic sighing? If you're so bored, maybe you should have stayed home", he muttered without looking up from his phone.

His words cut deep, but you forced a neutral expression, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he had hurt you. Instead, you just looked back towards the dance floor, wondering how something that once felt so promising had turned into this.

After a while, some guy approached you. Of course, he wasn’t Ben, but he looked pretty handsome. His blue eyes sparkled as he smiled at you. “Would you like to dance?”, he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

You glanced beside you, but Ben didn't even bother to look up from his phone. Clearly not paying attention to you at all. More than hurt by his disinterest, you took all the bravery you had left and smiled at the stranger, nodding. You stood up and walked with him over to the dance floor.

As you started dancing, it was nothing too close or dirty; you just wanted to have fun and forget the tension with Ben, even if only for a moment. The stranger's easy-going nature and genuine interest in you made you feel lighter, the weight of Ben's neglect slowly lifting as you moved to the music. You laughed and twirled, enjoying the simple pleasure of being seen and appreciated, if only by someone new.

It wasn't until 20 minutes later that Annie and Hughie approached Ben, slightly sweating from dancing, and asked, "Hey, Ben, have you seen Y/N?".

Ben looked up, visibly annoyed. He glanced to his side and realized you were gone. Scanning the room, his eyes finally landed on you, laughing with a guy he didn’t know. There was a respectable distance between you and the guy, but still, his anger began to simmer.

Annie followed his gaze, swallowing hard when she saw you on the dance floor. Her eyes flicked back to Ben, noting the veins standing out on his neck, a clear sign that he was trying everything to keep his temper in check. But it was obvious he was close to losing it.

"Ben, it's just a dance", Annie said softly, trying to diffuse the situation. "She just wants to have fun".

Ben's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "I can see that", he replied through gritted teeth, his eyes never leaving you and the guy.

Hughie put a hand on Ben's shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. "Maybe you should go talk to her, Ben. Clear things up".

Ben took a deep breath, his anger barely contained, and stood up. "Yeah, maybe I fucking should", he muttered, striding towards the dance floor with a determined look on his face.

Ben approached you within seconds, and without a word, he punched the guy in the face. He tried his best to hold back his supe strength to avoid killing him outright, but the guy was still knocked out, his nose and jaw clearly broken. Despite the few screams from people around you, Ben gripped your upper arm with a fierce hold, tugging you out of the bar with such force that it left you in tears.

Outside, he shoved you towards a nearby taxi, growling, "Get the fuck inside". His eyes blazed with fury, making it clear there was no room for argument.

You stumbled into the taxi, your arm throbbing from his grip and tears streaming down your face. The driver looked alarmed but said nothing as Ben slammed the door shut behind you.

Meanwhile, inside the bar, Annie and Hughie exchanged worried glances before rushing to help the guy who had danced with you. There was nothing they could do for you now. They had warned you more than once about Ben, but you hadn’t listened. Now, they could only hope you would be safe and find a way out of this toxic cycle.

The taxi pulled away, the night outside a blur as you tried to process what had just happened. The harsh reality of Ben's unpredictable anger and possessiveness was hitting you harder than ever.

Inside the taxi, you held your arm, tears rolling down your face as a huge bruise already started to form. Ben had always been a bit rough in handling you, but he had never been this mad, never actually hurt you like this. Sure, during sex, your hips sometimes got a few bruises when he squeezed them too tight while he came and was simply overwhelmed, but this right now was completely different.

Beside you, Ben breathed heavily, his angry gaze fixed on you. You tried not to look at him, fearing that meeting his eyes might provoke another outburst. The tension in the confined space of the taxi was suffocating, each second dragging on like an eternity.

“You really thought it was a good idea to fucking dance with some random guy?”, Ben finally spat, his voice dripping with anger. “Do you have any idea how that made me look?”.

You flinched at his words, struggling to find your voice. “I just wanted to have fun, Ben. You weren’t paying any attention to me”, you said softly, your voice trembling.

The taxi driver kept his eyes on the road, clearly uncomfortable but not daring to intervene.

Ben's rage intensified, his face contorting with fury. "Fun? With another man?", he repeated, his voice louder and more menacing. "You acted like a fucking little whore, and you should know better!".

You flinched again, the sting of his words cutting deeper than the physical pain. "Ben, please", you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I wasn't doing anything wrong. I just wanted to dance".

"Just wanted to dance?", he mocked, his voice dripping with venom. "You're mine. You don't get to just do whatever the hell you want".

You felt a mixture of fear and defiance welling up inside you. "I didn't mean to upset you", you said, your voice barely audible. "But you can't treat me like this".

Ben's eyes narrowed, his anger palpable. "I can treat you however I damn well please", he snapped. "You're lucky I don't do worse for making me look like a fool in front of everyone".

The taxi driver shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes fixed firmly on the road. You felt a pang of sympathy for the man, dragged into this toxic exchange against his will.

As the driver stopped in front of your and Ben’s apartment building, Ben paid quickly, his movements sharp and impatient. You hurried out of the car, knowing that if you didn’t move fast enough, Ben would likely drag you out himself. Your body was shaking as you opened the door and walked towards the apartment, Ben close behind you.

The elevator ride was tense and silent, the air thick with unspoken words and simmering anger. Your mind raced, trying to think of a way to defuse the situation or at least protect yourself from what might come next.

When you finally reached your apartment, your hands trembled as you unlocked the door. You stepped inside, your heart pounding in your chest. Ben followed, closing the door behind him with a resounding thud.

“You think you can just embarrass me like that and walk away?”, he spat, his eyes burning with anger.

You backed away slowly, your voice trembling as you tried to explain. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you, Ben. I just needed some attention, some fun. You weren’t—”.

“I wasn’t what?”, he interrupted, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. “I wasn’t doting on you like some pathetic lapdog? You need to learn your place”.

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you looked up at him, feeling small and powerless. “Ben, please. This isn’t right. We can’t keep going like this”.

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—an emotion that wasn’t anger, perhaps regret or pain. But it was quickly replaced by the familiar, cold rage.

Before you could say another word, his palm connected with your cheek, the sound of the slap reverberating through the room. The force of the blow sent you reeling, your vision blurring as pain radiated through your face. You stumbled back, clutching your cheek, tears spilling freely down your face.

“You don’t get to fucking tell me what’s right”, he growled, his voice low and dangerous. The venom in his words left you trembling, your body shaking with a mix of fear and pain.

The tears came harder now, uncontrollable sobs wracking your body. Ben’s expression twisted in anger as he watched you. “Stop fucking crying”, he yelled, his voice rising to a furious pitch. “Or I’ll give you a reason to fucking cry”.

You tried to stifle your sobs, pressing your hand harder against your mouth, but the fear and pain were too overwhelming. Ben’s rage seemed to grow with every tear that fell, as he struggled to contain his anger.

He took a step closer, towering over you. “I fucking swear, if you don’t shut up…”, he threatened, leaving the rest of his words hanging ominously in the air.

In that moment, you realized that there was no reasoning with him, no calming his fury.

You stood there, your hand pressing hard against your mouth, the right side of your face completely swollen and red. Despite your best efforts to remain silent, the fear and pain made it impossible not to sob. Your breath hitched with each sob, your chest twitching up and down uncontrollably. You were shaking, your entire body a testament to the trauma you were enduring.

Ben’s eyes bored into you, a terrifying mix of rage and contempt. “Look at you”, he spat, his voice dripping with disdain.

You couldn’t meet his gaze, your eyes fixed on the floor as you tried to steady your breathing, your sobs barely contained. The room felt smaller, suffocating, as his presence dominated every corner.

“Do you understand now?”, he continued, his tone quieter but no less menacing. “You don’t get to act out and make a fool of me”.

You nodded, trying not to upset him further, hoping to placate his rage. But Ben wasn’t done with you just yet. He needed you to learn what happened if you didn’t behave yourself. You were his girl, after all, and no one else got to touch you.

“Good”, he said, his voice icy and controlled. “But I don’t think you fully understand yet”.

He stepped closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over you. You flinched as his hand reached out, expecting another strike, but instead, he grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to look up at him. His grip was tight, his fingers digging into your skin painfully.

“You belong to me”, he said, his eyes boring into yours. “No one else gets to touch you, no one else gets to see you like this. Do you hear me?”.

You nodded again, your breath hitching in fear. “Yes, Ben”, you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Say it”, he demanded, his grip tightening even more.

“I belong to you”, you repeated, tears spilling over once more. “No one else”.

He released your chin, shoving you back slightly. “Good. Now remember that”, he said, his voice filled with a cold satisfaction. “And don’t ever make me remind you again”.

You stumbled back, catching yourself against the kitchen island. Ben's eyes never left you, his expression a mix of anger and satisfaction. He muttered something under his breath, barely audible, but you caught the tail end of it: "Now turn the fuck around, face down".

Terror gripped you, but you knew better than to resist. Shaking, you slowly turned around, facing the kitchen island, your hands gripping the edge tightly. The cold surface felt like a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your swollen cheek.

"Face down", he repeated, his voice sharp and commanding.

You lowered yourself, your cheek pressing against the cool countertop, tears streaming silently from your eyes. Every muscle in your body was tense, bracing for whatever was to come next.

Behind you, you heard Ben move closer, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. His presence loomed over you, and you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. "Don't ever forget who you belong to", he growled, his voice a harsh whisper in your ear.

Your mind raced, searching for a way out, but the fear kept you rooted to the spot. You knew that any attempt to resist would only provoke him further, and the thought of what he might do if pushed too far was too terrifying to contemplate.

Time seemed to stretch on, each second a painful eternity as you lay there, your breath shallow and uneven.

You heard Ben’s belt rustling behind you, the sound sending a chill down your spine. He pulled down his jeans and boxers just enough to free his dick. While he gave himself a few pumps to make himself hard, he yanked up your dress, exposing your ass. With a hard tug, he ripped away your panties, leaving red marks where the fabric bit into your skin as he pulled on it.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the sobs that threatened to escape. The pain of his rough handling mixed with the humiliation of the situation, making you feel utterly powerless. Ben’s heavy breathing filled the room, a harsh reminder of the imminent violation.

“Don’t move”, he ordered, his voice cold and detached. You could feel him positioning himself behind you, the heat of his body pressing against your exposed skin.

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

As he was about to push inside you, he grabbed your hip, making you flinch reflexively. Snapping at you that he told you not to move, he slapped your ass with such force that you were shoved into the kitchen counter. You were certain he had just used his supe strength on you for the first time. The impact nearly crushed your hipbones against the hard edge of the countertop. It was impossible to tell what pained more—your behind or your hipbones.

More tears welled in your eyes as the shock and agony consumed you. The tears blurred your vision, and your body trembled uncontrollably. The brutal reality of his power and your helplessness was more evident than ever.

“Did I tell you to fucking move or not?”, he hissed.

You shook your head, too terrified to speak, your cheek still stinging from his slap. Every part of you ached, the pain almost unbearable. Yet, amidst the physical agony, the emotional toll weighed even heavier.

He positioned himself again, his grip on your hip like a vice.

With that, he pushed inside you with one hard and deep thrust that nearly had you vomiting from the pain. He knew how tight you were and how big he was. You always struggled even when you were wet, but now it was just excruciatingly painful. You could swear he had ripped you apart with just that one thrust. You cried out, the agony overwhelming every sense.

Ignoring your cries and sobs, he pulled back, his movements devoid of any compassion. With brutal force, he pushed right back inside, all the way, making you feel like you were being torn apart anew. Each thrust was a reminder of your helplessness, a brutal testament to his dominance.

Your mind struggled to cope with the pain and the violation, each moment stretching into an eternity. The tears continued to fall, each sob a desperate plea for mercy that went unheard.

As he continued, his breath heavy and labored, he muttered under his breath, "You're mine. You need to learn to behave".

You kept whimpering breathlessly, your body barely able to keep up with the intensity of his movements. The room seemed to close in around you, the walls pressing in with the weight of your fear and pain.

Ben grunted, his voice thick with frustration and anger. "I don't want to do this", he spat, "but you leave me no other choice".

Each word was like a dagger to your already fragile spirit, the cruelty of his actions and his justification for them making the situation even more unbearable. You tried to stifle your sobs, but the pain and fear were too overwhelming.

"Why can't you just do as you're told?", he growled, his grip on your hips tightening painfully. "Why do you have to make everything so difficult?".

The desperation in his voice mingled with his rage, creating a terrifying mix of emotions that left you feeling utterly powerless.

His grip softened slightly, and his tone shifted, almost pleading. “Just say you’ve learned your lesson”, he muttered, “so I can stop”.

Through your tears and pain, you managed to whisper, “I’ve learned my lesson”. The words felt hollow, but you hoped they would be enough to make this torment end.

Ben’s movements slowed, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “That isn’t enough”, he said harshly. “You need to mean it”.

Desperation clawed at your heart, and you struggled to find the words that would convince him. “I… I mean it, Ben”, you stammered, forcing as much sincerity into your voice as you could muster. “I’ve learned my lesson. Please, just stop”.

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, but then he continued, his grip tightening once more. Each thrust felt like it was breaking you further, both physically and emotionally. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape.

Finally, with a grunt of satisfaction, he finished inside you. The violation felt even more complete, a harsh reminder of his dominance. He released you abruptly, and you collapsed against the counter, your body trembling and tears streaming down your face.

“Remember this”, he said coldly, his breath still heavy. “Next time, you won’t get off so easily”.

As he pulled away and adjusted his clothes, you remained where you were, too shaken to move. The silence that followed was suffocating, each breath you took a painful reminder of what you had endured.

"Get cleaned up", he ordered, his voice devoid of any sympathy. "You look like a fucking mess".

His words stung, but you forced yourself to move, your body aching with every step. You made your way to the bathroom, each movement a struggle. Once inside, you closed the door behind you and locked it, leaning against the sink for support.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the image almost too much to bear. The tear-streaked face, the swollen cheek, the haunted look in your eyes—it all felt like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.

Turning on the faucet, you splashed cold water on your face, trying to wash away the tears and the pain. As the water trickled down, you took deep breaths, willing yourself to find some semblance of composure.

With trembling hands, you reached for a washcloth. Just then, you noticed the small blood droplets trickling down your inner thighs. The sight made your breath catch in your throat, the stark evidence of your ordeal adding another layer of shock to your already overwhelmed senses.

You pressed the washcloth against your skin, trying to clean the blood as gently as possible, but the pain made you wince. The cold water did little to numb the sting, both physical and emotional. Each wipe reminded you of the violation, the brutality of Ben’s actions.

As you continued to clean yourself up, your mind raced.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally managed to clean yourself up. You dressed in fresh clothes, trying to cover the bruises and marks as best as you could. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, knowing you had to face Ben again.

Opening the bathroom door, you stepped out cautiously. Ben was still in the living room, his expression unreadable. You avoided his gaze, but as you walked towards the bedroom, Ben called after you, stopping you in your tracks. Your heart raced and your hands started to tremble again. Every step made you wince in pain, but you turned around and walked back towards him, bracing yourself for whatever was to come next.

You stood in the doorway, wearing a thin, long soft sweatshirt and matching pants that you hoped would hide the bruises and marks. Ben’s expression was still unreadable, but his voice was softer now, almost deceptively gentle.

“Come closer”, he ordered, a hint of something unreadable in his tone.

You hesitated, every instinct screaming at you to stay away, but you knew better than to disobey him now. Taking a deep breath, you took a few steps closer, each movement sending jolts of pain through your body.

He watched you intently, his eyes following your every move. “You know why I had to do that, right?”, he asked, his voice still soft but carrying an underlying threat.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. The fear and anxiety were almost overwhelming, but you forced yourself to remain calm, to not provoke him further.

“Good”, he said, his tone slightly more approving. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you need to know how to behave”.

You swallowed.

“Come here”, he said, extending a hand towards you.

You walked over to him slowly, each step a reminder of the pain and fear you were trying to suppress. When you reached him, Ben’s grip was surprisingly gentle as he pulled you onto his lap, positioning you so that you were straddling his hips.

The change in his demeanor was disorienting. He had been so brutal just moments before, and now he was almost tender. His hands rested on your hips, the same place where his grip had been vice-like earlier.

“You know I do this because I care about you”, he murmured, his eyes searching yours.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure. The closeness was suffocating, yet you forced yourself to nod, to agree, to do whatever it took to keep him calm. “I understand”, you whispered, though the words felt like ashes in your mouth.

Ben’s hands moved up and down your sides, almost in a soothing manner. “Good”, he said softly.

You nodded again, your heart pounding in your chest. His touch, though gentle now, was a reminder of the power he wielded over you.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and for a moment, it almost felt normal.

With that, his attention turned back to his joint and the TV, his grip on you still firm but now gentle. He held you close, his arms wrapped around you as if trying to erase the brutality of earlier with this forced tenderness. The flickering light from the TV cast shadows across the room, adding to the surreal feeling of the moment.

You sat there, straddling his hips, your body tense and your mind racing. Every muscle screamed for you to get away, to find a safe place, but you knew better than to try and leave now. Ben’s mood could change in an instant, and you couldn’t risk provoking him again.

He adjusted his hold on you, pulling you even closer. “See, this is nice”, he murmured, almost to himself. “I just want us to be close”.

You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice to remain steady. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a reminder of the precariousness of your situation. His words and actions were so contradictory that it was hard to grasp any sense of stability or safety.

As he focused on the TV, you tried to find a place of calm within yourself. The physical closeness was suffocating, but you forced yourself to breathe slowly, to remain as composed as possible.

He felt your heart still racing and brushed his hand gently over your back. “Relax”, he mumbled, his touch soft and almost soothing. It was as if he was afraid to hurt you now. The gentleness felt like a cruel twist.

“I love you”, he murmured, his voice filled with a strange mix of sincerity and possessiveness. The words hit you hard, bringing fresh tears to your eyes. How could someone who claimed to love you inflict so much pain and fear?

You swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, but they fell anyway, silently streaming down your cheeks.

Ben’s hand continued to move slowly over your back, as if he believed that this moment of tenderness could erase the horror of what had just happened. “You know that, right?”, he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for affirmation.

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak.“I know”, you whispered finally, your voice barely audible.

Ben brushed your tears away gently with his thumb, his touch surprisingly tender. “Come on, baby, stop crying”, he whispered, his voice a strange mix of concern and possessiveness. His fingers traced the path of your tears.

You nodded slightly, though the tears continued to fall. His gentleness now felt almost surreal. It was hard to reconcile these two sides of him, the loving and the violent.

“Shh, it’s okay”, he murmured, pulling you closer against his chest. “I don’t want to see you cry”.

You pressed your face into his shoulder, hiding your tears from him, but they kept coming. The conflicting emotions within you were too much to contain.

“Just relax”, he said again, his hand continuing to stroke your back. “Everything’s going to be okay”.

He gently pressed you closer by your hips, and you instantly shook and cried out in pain. Ben’s eyes widened with genuine concern. “Does it hurt?”, he asked, his voice softer, his hand hesitating on your hip.

You nodded, biting your lip to stifle the sobs. “Yes”, you whispered, unable to meet his gaze.

A look of confusion and something akin to regret flickered across his face. “I’m sorry”, he murmured, his hand loosening its grip. “I didn’t mean to hurt you that much”.

The sincerity in his voice was disorienting, making it even harder to process the rollercoaster of emotions. You wanted to believe the gentler side of him, but the pain and fear were too fresh, too real.

“It’s okay”, you said softly, more out of a need to pacify him than anything else. You knew you had to keep him calm, to avoid provoking another outburst.

“Come on”, he whispered softly, “let’s get you to bed”. He stood up, carrying you with him, his movements careful and measured as if trying not to cause you any more pain.

You felt a strange mix of relief and trepidation as he held you. His gentleness now was in such stark contrast to his earlier brutality that it was hard to reconcile the two. You wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing yourself to be carried.

Ben carried you to the bedroom and gently laid you down on the bed. “You need to rest”, he said, his voice still soft, but you could sense the underlying tension. “I’ll stay with you”.

You nodded slightly, too exhausted and sore to protest. The bed felt like a small haven of comfort despite the circumstances. Ben climbed in beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you close but carefully avoiding your sore spots.

He stroked your hair gently, as if trying to soothe away the pain he had caused. "You need to rest", he repeated softly, his breath warm against your ear.

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing.

"Everything's going to be alright", Ben murmured, his voice low and almost hypnotic.

As the minutes ticked by, you felt the exhaustion from the day's events start to take over. Your body ached, each bruise and mark a painful reminder.

Ben's grip on your waist tightened slightly, as if he sensed your thoughts. "I love you", he whispered again, his voice tinged with a desperation that made your heart ache.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to respond. "I love you too", you whispered.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

[misandresther]

73% of all Russian women who died in 2023, died because of domestic violence...

[awkwardandeccentric]

The more I think about it, the more I want Moxxie to be the one to comfort Stolas when they find out how bad things were with Stella.

We love Blitz’s ability to just speak whatever’s on his mind. But this situation is so delicate, and I can see him unintentionally driving the knife further in by just blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. Stolas is aware that Stella is a cruel, unloving person and he did nothing to deserve her abuse. But he may still blame himself for other things: for not leaving sooner. For not refusing the marriage in the first place. For not fighting harder for full custody of Octavia. For not taking her threats of assassination seriously. For…

But you know who it would click with immediately?

Moxxie.

Moxxie, whose mother was murdered just to keep him in line. Moxxie, who has a powerful father that only sees him as a token to trade away. Moxxie, who was saved from his own arranged marriage by Blitz. Moxxie, who had nothing but the cold and the dark for most of his life.

Moxxie will know the stakes. Moxxie will know Stolas did his best in an impossible situation and is crumbling under the weight of expectations. Moxxie will know that Stolas had no good options, so he picked what he thought was the least bad one. Moxxie will see Stolas for what he is: a broken, burnt out man that is in no condition to fight for his life, anymore. He’s been fighting for his life with no one in his corner for nearly forty years, and it’s killing him.

(I have to imagine that, despite him loving Octavia, he does have to feel some kind of way knowing that he has a replacement ready and available in case he steps too far out of line. Maybe that’s why his comforting words to her were always ‘You’ll be okay when I’m gone.’ Because he knows there’s no reason to keep him around once she turns 18 and he’s tired of trying to find reasons to not just give up).

Moxxie would never criticize Stolas for not leaving earlier. Or for thinking that he could shield Octavia from Stella’s cruelty if he took all the ire. Or for getting so used to the death threats that he stopped listening.

And I think more than anything, Stolas needs someone in addition to Blitz whose approval he is not dependent on to tell him he did the best he could, and he can’t feel guilty about that.

[thediaryofarevolutionist]

Sometimes I just wish I was ignorant and didn't know anything. I wouldn't care about politics and would no longer break down when I find out about injustice against women. I just can't do it. I'm not strong enough and this misogyny is getting to me. It’s tearing me apart. I feel paralyzed and don't understand why women must go trough this. All i want is women to be safe and liberated but i dont see any hope.

[loveelizabeths]

- 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚑 𝚜.

[daddysdisappointment]

Never.

[isawthismeme]

[jaylaraye47]

don’t ever tell a male SA survivor; “You’re supposed to enjoy it”

don’t ever tell a male SA survivor; "good game/job"

don’t ever tell a male SA survivor; “You’re a boy, you can’t get raped.”

don’t ever tell a male SA survivor; “that doesn’t count.”

don’t ever tell an SA survivor; “What were you wearing?”

don’t ever tell an SA survivor; “Did you close your legs?”

don’t ever tell an SA survivor; “They’re family, they wouldn’t do that.”

don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “I don’t believe you.”

don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “I know them, they wouldn’t do that.”

don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “You’re supposed to enjoy it.”

don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “We’re you leading them on?”

don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “We’re you rude?”

don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “You’re an adult, toughen up.”

don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “it doesn’t count.”

don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “it’s your fault.”

don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “but you don’t act like it.”

don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “But they seem so nice.”

don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “They’d never do that.”

don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “She’s a girl, girl’s don’t abuse.”

don’t ever tell a male DA/GA survivor; “Boys can’t be abused.”

don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “But you have no scars.”

don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “You’re just making things up for attention.”

don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “you should’ve just fought/yelled back.”

don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “It’s your fault.”

don’t ever tell an attempt survivor; “that’s selfish of you.”

don’t ever tell an attempt survivor; “I’ve had it worse/i know someone who has it worse.”

don’t ever tell an attempt survivor; “that doesn’t sound like an attempt.”

don’t ever tell a POC; “you’d be way prettier with lighter skin.”

don’t ever tell a POC; “but you don’t look american?”

don’t ever tell a POC; “you should try skin bleaching.”

don’t ever tell a POC; “oh, are you in a gang or something?”

don’t ever tell a POC; “but your skin is so light, you can’t be colored.”

don’t ever tell a POC; “can you give me the N word pass?”

don’t ever tell a POC; “your hair is distracting”

don’t ever tell a POC; “go back to where you came from.” [whoever says this, i live in your walls]

don’t ever tell an albino; “you’re white, not black.”

don’t ever tell an albino; “so are one of your parent white or something?”

don’t ever tell an albino; “you’d be prettier if you were normal.”

don’t ever tell an albino; “oh has anyone tired talking you limbs or something” [i will hunt whoever says this]

don’t ever tell a child; “you should take care of your siblings.”

don’t ever tell a child; “he hits you/is being rude because he likes you”

don’t ever tell a child; “you have to hug them!”

don’t ever tell a child; “it’s your fault we’re divorcing”

don’t ever tell a child; “you’re too old to be doing this.”

don’t ever tell a child of divorced parents; “it’s your fault”

don’t ever tell a child of divorced parents; “pick a side”

don’t ever tell a child of divorced parents; “did you ever consider that you should’ve stepped in?”

don’t ever tell a child of divorced parents; “well if they never got together in the first place, they wouldn’t have had you”

you never know what a person is going through and don’t you dare shame a person for something they can’t control.

if you say any of these things you’re disgusting and you need to not only get educated but stop being a dick.

keep in mind that i am aware that these prompts don’t apply to everyone of a certain minority. But this is me teaching to simply be kind and pay respect and mind to a person’s experiences, minority, etc. there are multiple prompts that can be added but I will refrain to using those out of respect, and also due to censorship.

[toonztown]

Mafia husband! x (GN) reader Part 2

It has been about 3 days since you've moved into the mansion, your 'fiancé' is constantly busy with work so to your delight you hardly see him. You still couldn't believe it just a few days ago you were a normal high schooler, average grades but now your staying in a house you couldn't afford in your lifetime to be married off to a member of the mafia.

You sat up in bed, you spend most of your days in your room, sleeping the day a away, hoping that this is all just a bad dream; only to find yourself disappointed every time you wake up.

just before you were about to go back to sleep, there was a soft knock at the door. "excuse me mr capone has requested you come down for breakfast at once." the voice on the other side said. you made an audible groan and you make your way out of bed, the last thing you wanted was food much less breakfast with Mr. capone. You knew denying would be a- foolish decision, he could kill you in a heart beat. You open the closet and are stunned by the amount of expensive clothing, not a single one of them looked worn, could it be? he bought them for you? You felt your heart warm ever so slightly at the thought, you shook your head. You pick out something that you liked and changed into it, not bothering to fix your hair, maybe if he finds you unappealing to the eyes he'll let you go? its a small chance but it gave you hope. now here you were, seated at a large table full of various foods you've never tried before and across from you was the man who brought you to this hell, Mr capone. Maybe this is a good time to question him when the time was right? you picked up your glass of wine, you didn't take a sip just stare at it then back at him. You gather the courage to finally ask him "so why me." you asked, your cold gaze fixed on him. your question seemed to catch him off guard for a moment, he tilted his head in confusion with a sly grin. "i have no idea what you mean dearest." he replied, downing a glass of wine, his voice had a hint of playfulness, he was totally taunting you.

now he was playing dumb? who does he think he is. You clench your fist into a ball before slamming it down on the table "dont act dumb! why did you chose me! why did you bring me here instead of just killing me! why do you want to marry me?!" through all your questioning and ranting he just stared at you silently, tapping his fingers on the table. He was going annoyed, maybe going on a rampage was not a good idea. once your anger died down you were filled with deep regret- ohh why did you do something so stupid, you sat back down. You grabbed the bottle of wine and drank it, if your going to die, might as well die intoxicated. Mr capone got up from his seat across the table and made his way over to you.

your cheek was met with a harsh slap that would have your face stinging for a while, he grabbed you by the hair and yanked your head back forcing your eyes to meet. Oh he was pissed.

"let us get one thing straight you little bitch. Firstly i didn't 'chose you' your father just didn't have the ability to have more attractive offspring, second if i wanted to kill you i would have."

his grip on your hair tightened. He then slammed your head onto the table, you could feel blood drip down your nose from the impact, you struggle to get away but this only made him do it again but harder.

" Finally, marriage is the ultimate way to have claim over you. this isn't some dumb little fairy tale where i 'fall in love with the innocent damsel.' your my slave, im the master. If you EVER, have that attitude with me again, i will send you home to your old man in a fucking body bag you worthless whore."

His words and the buzzing pain in your head made it hard to do anything but nod, he threw you to the floor and gave you a beating that you would never forget. you dont remember what happened next or how you got to bed. When you woke up, you found that your wounds were treated and a bouquet of expensive looking flowers on your bed accompanied by a note. you did not have to open it to know who it was from, i guess this was Mr capone's twisted way of apologizing after injuring you to the point of you having to passing out.

inside the note was the basic im sorry, please forgive me, i do it cause i love you and how he promises to never lay a hand on your ever again, you scoff at the thought, that was a obvious lie, did he think you were that stupid?

you crumpled the note and toss it across the room not caring where it landed, your head still hurt from how hard he grabbed your hair. If he was willing to beat you that badly for just questioning him, you fear what he will do if you try to escape. you lay back down in bed, silently cursing your dad and his stupid gambling addiction, if it wasn't for him you would be in school right now, even the worst of your bullies were better than being stuck with him. you turned and faced the wall, holding your now bruise ridden body. Pulling the covers over your eyes you drift off to sleep, dreaming of being back home with your parents, even your dad. ignoring the fact that you were to be wed, in just 5 days.

[unforgivenyunjin]

“Feylin’s relationship failed because Feyre doesn’t know how to communicate”

Remember when Feyre communicated to Tamlin how his behavior was literally killing her and he reacted by…almost killing her? Cause I sure as hell do.

The problem isn’t that Feyre doesn’t know how to communicate. It’s that’s Tamlin doesn’t know how to receive.

[morrasad]

Im back🩷🩷

[classycookiexo]

I honestly think that they should have a DV registry like the one for sexual offenders

[iamwhoami]

It Will Get Better (Grey's Anatomy)

Grey's Anatomy

It wasn't that bad. That's what you told yourself each time. But as the excuses start piling up, Amelia Shepherd can't deny what's in front of her any longer and tries to convince you that it was bad enough to finally do something.

Warnings: Domestic Violence/Abuse

Requested = Yes

Y/L/N = Your Last Name

WOW it has been a hot second. A very hot second. A burning second. Maybe I'm back? I'm so sorry to all the other requests that I just haven't gotten to but I'm going to try to make an effort to write more again.

Sometimes you felt stupid.

Here you were, a well accomplished and respected surgeon with a soaring career, yet you just couldn't seem to leave.

Sometimes, you would stop and wonder why you couldn't.

Because you loved him.

Because he loved you.

Sometimes you would convince yourself that you would leave. That when night came and he fell asleep, you'd pack a bag and walk out the door. Of course, that never happened, because each time, you'd convince yourself that it was your fault.

You upset him. You shouldn't have picked a fight with him. You deserved what he did to you.

That he was a good man. That he was going to change.

That he loved you.

After an especially rough night, you woke up groaning. Your body was on fire, resisting every move you made. Aching, you managed to get yourself to the bathroom and in the mirror, you examined the damage.

"Shit..." You cursed softly as your fingers traced the blaring purple splotch along your cheek.

This was going to be difficult to cover.

Sighing, you rinsed your face off with cold water and wiped it dry before pulling out your makeup bag. The bruise was already vibrant and you knew that make up wouldn't make it completely disappear. But you were hoping that between the light and the angle, you could make it work.

It was a routine you were all too familiar with.

~~~

"Y/L/N!"

You turned around, looking up from your patient's chart to see a grinning Amelia Shepherd walking towards you.

"Just the person I was looking for," Amelia grinned, her smile infectious.

Amelia Shepherd was the first person you met when you first started working at Grey Sloan after transferring from your previous hospital. She quickly became the first friend that you made too. Realistically, you trusted Amelia with your life.

"I feel like I haven't seen you around much," Amelia commented. "We should do something on a day off, I need some Y/N time."

You chuckled and agreed despite knowing that you would never spend time with your colleagues outside of work because he would never let you.

"What can I do for you?" You asked and began walking towards the nurse's station. Your body still protested every movement though and you couldn't help but let out a soft groan.

Amelia eyed you carefully but let it slide, "I just need a consult."

You nodded and she pulled up the scans, eyes still trained on your expression for any kind of sign of discomfort.

As you carefully examined the scans on Amelia's tablet, you could feel her gaze trained on your face and you felt yourself staring harder at the tablet than necessary.

However, just when you thought you could get away with it, Amelia spoke up before you could open your mouth.

"What happened there?" Amelia softly asked, her hand reaching to your cheek.

You instinctively flinched and Amelia's hand paused before she lowered it.

"Y/N?"

You blushed, "Don't worry about it Amelia, I'm just clumsy and slipped. I hit my face against the table."

Amelia, of course, was not convinced but she sensed the anxiety in your body and let it slide.

"You would let me know if something was wrong right?" Amelia quietly asked and you nodded before forcing a smile on your face.

"Of course I would."

You felt sick lying to Amelia through your smiling teeth but there was a heavy weight in your stomach that made you do it.

He loved you.

~~~

You made a conscious effort to avoid Amelia after that close call. It hurt your heart to do so but you couldn't risk it. You took longer routes to get to places in the hospital when you could. You avoided break rooms that she was in.

Amelia knew you were avoiding her too. She let you have your space for a while but when it became clear that you weren't going to let up any time soon, she began to try to reach out to you.

It was one missed call. Then two. Then you stopped answering texts. You contemplated blocking her altogether but couldn't bring yourself to do it.

One evening after a long shift, you let yourself melt into the comfort of your couch, your partner watching the Seahawks game next to you.

Your phone sounded and you glanced at your screen to see a text message from Amelia. Sighing, you closed your phone and turned it face down on the coffee table.

But it didn't stop.

A series of text messages resulted in a series of dings but as you were reaching out to grab your phone to silence it, your partner's arm pushed past you and ripped your phone off the coffee table.

"What the fuck is so important that it's interrupting the game," He grumbled and looked at the screen. "Amelia?"

"My coworker," You quickly responded. "She's probably just asking about a patient."

He eyed you and you thought you were going to get away with it until his glare hardened.

"Prove it."

You gulped knowing that Amelia's text messages weren't about a patient. Your heart raced as you stumbled for an excuse but your hesitation was more than enough for him to lash out at you.

You weren't sure how long it would have lasted had your pager not gone off. Maybe the whole night for all you knew. Mumbling that you needed to be more transparent with him, he backed off, leaving you to pick yourself up off the floor.

Your body screamed in protest as you gathered yourself as quickly as possible before rushing off to the hospital. A massive trauma had come in and they needed all hands on deck. On your way out, you managed to pop two Advils into your mouth before grabbing your bag.

As you drove to the hospital, your mind raced with excuses to explain the growing bruises on your skin. You knew that in the moment, the hospital would be too busy to question the blotches but the aftermath would be an interrogation.

~~~

Exhausted and burning, you had finally made it through all the surgeries and now all the patients were in recovery. As you closed your eyes, you let yourself relax into the couch in the break room, a steaming cup of tea in your hands.

You felt someone sit down next to you and you didn't need to open your eyes to confirm it was Amelia.

"Let me guess, you fell again?" Amelia spoke softly and you knew it wasn't actually a question.

She knew.

You couldn't bring yourself to say anything. To lie and deny what she knew. To tell the truth and confirm what she knew. You felt your throat tingle as a lump formed and a tear silently escaped your closed eyes.

"You don't need to keep doing this," Amelia said and gently placed her hand on your arm.

You still didn't respond and Amelia took the cup out of your hands before placing it on the table with a soft clink.

"Y/N, look at me," She said but your eyes remained closed.

"Y/N."

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes even though one was beginning to swell shut.

"You deserve better," Amelia spoke with conviction, her gaze focused on your eyes. "It's not your fault, it was never your fault."

You swallowed and shook your head softly, "I can't."

"Yes you can," Amelia said. "You can. I will be here the entire time but you just have to trust me. It will get better if you just trust me on this one."

"He loves me." You replied but your voice quivered.

Amelia's heart broke at your words, "Y/N, this isn't love. Love doesn't hurt like this."

The singular tear that had slipped through your eyes seemed to have been an invitation for the others to follow as your body began to shake with each sob.

Slowly, Amelia wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to her side before stroking your hair.

"I promise Y/N, it will get better," She whispered. "You deserve so much better."

You closed your eyes again and took a deep breath as the tears kept dripping down your cheeks.

"Okay," You mumbled back. "I trust you."

[awkwardandeccentric]

I think Octavia knows more than she’s letting on.

Let me preface this by saying I will not allow any Octavia slander or victim-blaming for Stolas. Octavia is a child and Stolas is surviving domestic violence. It’s an on-site block if I see that nonsense.

Having said that

Going off my own experiences watching my parents, I always knew something was…off. I couldn’t place it. I couldn’t name it. I was too young to understand the concept of abuse. My parents were married. They loved each other…right?

Unlike Stella and Stolas, my parents actually had loved each other at some point. But that didn’t change the fact that my earliest memories are of extreme stress, living in tension I didn’t cause but felt it was my job to fix. If I couldn’t fix it, I needed to avoid it.

Octavia seems to go the avoiding route. She plays music whenever she can, she tries to stay out of her parents’ way, and she doesn’t react at all to her mom throwing her dad’s plants around or screaming while tossing their butler at him.

Stella, by abusing Stolas, is also abusing Octavia. How do you think that affects her? Even if Stolas and Stella keep the worst of it away from her, she’s still hearing her mother use racist, degrading language towards her father and seeing Stella be violent with his things. She’s still learning that that’s an acceptable response to stress. Having a parent lose their shit at you for the simplest of things also dysregulates your nervous system. Chronic yelling is abusive because it puts you into fight/flight/freeze mode 24/7. That’s going to wreak havoc on your mind and body. Octavia has learned to keep her head down and stay invisible so she doesn’t have to deal with it (as is not her job. The abuser is always 100% at fault for the abuse. It’s also not a child’s job to protect a parent).

We also know she had nightmares as a kid of Stolas vanishing. I’ve seen speculation that this is her powers manifesting and I don’t disagree- this is a fantasy show- but I also think her subconscious knows there’s danger in her home. Her little five-year-old mind knows something is very wrong and the consequence of things not being made right is her father disappearing (and she was right. Stolas is only alive because Andrealphus convinced Stella to call off the hit).

We also never see her actually interact with Stella. Every time she talks about her parents, she’s either talking about Stolas as an individual or both of them as a unit. There’s no portraits of her playing with Stella. She never mentions good memories of Stella. She knows subconsciously that Stella is an unsafe, uninvolved parent and Stolas is her safe place.

Except, Stolas is fighting back.

There’s this thing that’s not talked about often called ‘reactive abuse.’ It’s when the victim is pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed until they yell back or hit back. And then the abuser gets to turn around and say “oh my god you’re so abusive how could you do this to me??”

When Octavia is complaining about Stolas and Stella “screaming at each other” I think what she’s actually seeing is Stolas pushed to his limit and biting back after 17 years of keeping himself as small and quiet as possible. But because she doesn’t have this language or knowledge, to her, it looks like he’s fighting with Stella, the known aggressor, for no reason.

Where am I going with this? Idk. Set this girl up with a case worker and a workbook on domestic abuse.