Judge Issues Restraining Order Against Texas Nonprofit For Helping AWOL Dems ll
A Texas judge on Friday ruled against Beto O’Rourke and his nonprofit in a case brought by state Attorney General Ken Paxton, accusing them of illegally raising funds to support Democratic lawmakers who fled the state to block GOP redistricting legislation.
Tarrant County District Judge Megan Fahey issued a temporary restraining order Friday evening against O’Rourke, a former congressman and Democratic presidential candidate, and his group, Powered by People, over what she called “unlawful fundraising practices” tied to efforts to back Texas Democrats who left the state — including funding air travel, lodging, logistics and daily fines, Fox News reported.
“Defendants have and will continue to engage in unlawful fundraising practices and utilization of political funds in a manner that either directly violates or causes Texas Democratic Legislators to violate [the law],” Fahey wrote in her ruling. “Consumers have and continue to suffer irreparable harm through these unlawful acts because they are making political contributions that are being used to fund personal expenses and violate state law.”
Fahey’s order bars O’Rourke and his group from continuing to raise money or provide financial support to the fleeing Democrats. The ruling came just hours after Paxton’s office filed a petition for the restraining order.
Fahey, a Republican, was appointed by Texas Gov. Greg Abbott in 2019.
In a statement after the ruling, O’Rourke accused Paxton of trying to shut down his nonprofit “because our volunteers fight for voting rights and free elections,” calling it “the kind of work that threatens the hold that Paxton, Trump, and Abbott have on power in Texas.”
“They want to make examples out of those who fight so that others won’t,” O’Rourke said. “Now Paxton’s filed a restraining order to try to take us out of the fight. He wants to silence me and stop me from leading this organization. He wants to stop us from fighting Trump’s attempt to steal the five congressional seats he needs to hang on to power. But I’m not going anywhere. I plan on speaking at our rally to stop the power grab in Fort Worth tomorrow afternoon.”
“Cry more, lib,” Paxton said in response. “You lost in court because you’re breaking the law and deceiving Texans. We absolutely will make an example out of law breakers.”
Along with the Powered by People case, Paxton also launched an investigation into the Texas Majority PAC, which has also been accused of being a major funder of the Democrats who left the state.
O’Rourke filed his own lawsuit against Paxton in El Paso district court Friday, according to The Texas Tribune. O’Rourke accused Paxton of carrying out a “fishing expedition” and asked a judge to block the investigation into his nonprofit’s practices.
Paxton celebrated the decision with a post on X.
“BREAKING: I just defeated Beto O’Rourke in court. We secured a major victory stopping runaway Democrats from taking ‘Beto Bribes’ and preventing deceptive fundraising. They told me to “come and take it,” so I did,” the Texas attorney general wrote.
On my birthday, my sister smashed the cake straight into my face, laughing as she watched me fall backward, blood mixing with the frosting. Everyone said, “It’s just a joke.” But the next mo
On my birthday, my sister smashed the cake straight into my face, laughing as she watched me fall backward, blood mixing with the frosting. Everyone said, “It’s just a joke.”
But the next morning in the emergency room, the doctor studied my X-ray and immediately called 911—because what he saw… exposed a horrifying truth.
Part One: “It’s Just a Joke”
On my birthday, the room smelled like sugar and candles and cheap champagne. A pink cake sat in the center of the table, my name written across it in looping frosting. Everyone was laughing. Phones were out. Someone shouted for me to make a wish.
My sister stood closest to me.
She grinned, eyes bright with something that wasn’t kindness. Before I could even lean forward, her hands slammed the cake straight into my face.
The impact was harder than anyone expected.
I felt myself stumble backward, my heel catching on the rug. There was a sharp crack as my head hit the edge of the table, then the floor. For a split second, the room spun in white and pink. I tasted sugar—and then iron.
Blood mixed with frosting, dripping down my chin.
People screamed, then laughed nervously.
“Oh my God,” someone said, still chuckling. “It’s just a joke!”
My sister laughed the loudest. “Relax! You’re so dramatic.”
I tried to sit up. Pain exploded behind my eyes. My vision blurred, and the ceiling swayed like it was floating. Someone wiped my face with a napkin, smearing blood across my cheek.
“You’re fine,” my mother said quickly. “Don’t ruin the mood.”
I remember thinking how strange it was that my ears were ringing louder than the music.
I remember the taste of frosting as I swallowed blood.
I remember waking up hours later in my bed, alone, my head throbbing, my phone full of messages telling me not to be “too sensitive.”
By morning, I couldn’t lift my arm.
Part Two: The X-Ray That Changed Everything
The emergency room smelled like disinfectant and sleepless nights. The doctor asked how it happened. I hesitated, then said quietly, “I fell.”
He nodded, unconvinced, and ordered X-rays “just to be safe.”
I lay on the cold table staring at the ceiling, replaying the laughter over and over in my head. It’s just a joke. That sentence hurt almost as much as my skull.
When the doctor returned, he wasn’t smiling.
He stared at the image on the screen for a long time. Too long.
Then he left the room without a word.
Minutes later, he came back—with a nurse, a security officer, and his phone pressed to his ear.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I need emergency services. Immediately.”
My heart started pounding. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
He turned to me, his voice careful. “This isn’t a simple fall.”
He pointed to the X-ray. Even I could see it—fine fractures branching like cracks in glass, not just in my skull, but along my collarbone and ribs. Old fractures. Healed wrong. Layered.
“These injuries happened at different times,” he said gently. “Some weeks apart. Some months.”
I stared at the screen, my mouth dry.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered.
He met my eyes. “This pattern isn’t accidental. And the impact that brought you in today could have killed you.”
The word killed echoed in my ears.
“Who did this to you?” he asked softly.
I thought of my sister’s grin. My parents’ laughter. All the times I’d been shoved, tripped, “joked” into walls. All the times I’d been told I was clumsy. Sensitive. Overreacting.
My hands began to shake.
“I think…” My voice broke. “I think it was never a joke.”
Part Three: When Laughter Turns Into Sirens
The police arrived quietly. Calmly. Like this wasn’t the first time they’d seen something like me.
They didn’t accuse. They asked questions.
Who was there last night?
Who pushed you?
How often do you get hurt?
For the first time, I didn’t minimize. I didn’t protect anyone. I told the truth.
By evening, my phone was exploding.
My mother crying.
My father furious.
My sister screaming that I had “ruined everything.”
“You’re exaggerating!” she yelled over voicemail. “It was cake! Everyone saw it!”
Everyone had seen it.
That was the horrifying truth.
Everyone had seen it—and laughed.
The investigation didn’t take long. Videos surfaced. Old medical records were reviewed. Witnesses contradicted themselves. Patterns became impossible to ignore.
What started as a “birthday prank” became an assault case.
What they called humor was documented as violence.
I was moved to a different room that night, monitored closely, safe for the first time in years. As I lay there, ice wrapped around my head, I realized something terrifying and freeing all at once:
If that cake hadn’t been smashed into my face…
If I hadn’t fallen just right…
The truth might have stayed buried forever.
Sometimes it takes breaking something visible to expose what’s been shattered for years.
