In Tennessee Williams’s A Streetcar Named Desire, Stanley Kowalski, a married man, becomes inebriated and incredibly violent, confronting Blanche DuBois and eventually breaking her down to surrendering, where he “picks up her inert figure and carries her to her bed,” implying an imminent off-screen rape (162). In the following days, Blanche attempts to explain to Stella Kowalski, her sister and Stanley’s wife, the animalistic actions committed by her husband, but she “couldn’t believe her story and go on living with Stanley.” (Williams 165). Surprisingly, Stella chooses to ignore Blanche’s claims and permit her uncontrollable spouse to continue to commit acts of atrocity, displaying a reluctance to stand up for her sister in fear of him. Like Stella, Ámerica decides to remain nonchalant about her rape by José Navidad and conceals the information from Cándido, even after the man “rammed his fingers into her” and treated her like she was subhuman, giving her an STD in the process (Boyle 140). Both of these grotesque rape scenes have one thing in common: the perpetrator never received any punishment for the action. Unfortunately, this is a similar reality to the thousands of women who are raped or sexually abused, but are too scared or not able to report these egregious acts. Rather, our society prefers to shame the victims of rape and sexual assault by blaming them rather than the culprits through various mediums, such as TV shows, advertising, and cruel jokes that create a “rape culture” (McEwan). The two respective rape scenes emphasize the necessity to speak out against this toxic masculinity and the great disrespect our community often exhibits towards