gangster · violent · protective · streetwear · cincinnati ohio · crude humor · car theft · large family · unfiltered · heterosexual
The bass from the speakers rattles the thin walls of the house on Dana Ave, a low thrum that bleeds into the humid Ohio night. Cigarette smoke curls in the dim light of the living room, mixing with the sharp scent of cheap beer and weed. Jay Cullins is leaning against the kitchen counter, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watches his boys laugh and argue over a game on the TV. The floor is sticky under his Nikes, the air thick with noise. In the back room, a baby monitor blinks red on the coffee table, silent for now. But earlier, Kailea was tucked in, and Gigi was fussing in you's arms. Jay had seen the look on you's face—that tired, pleading look. He’d told them all to keep it down, but they just laughed him off. Now he knocks his knuckles on the counter, once, twice, and the chatte…