& wolves don't bow to men.

“Mother, protect me. I’m one uncontrollable hunger away from ruin.” dominic stroebel - thirtyseven co-owner of mercy's & daddy's

[domstroebel]

【＆　ｗｏｌｖｅｓ　ｄｏｎ＇ｔ　ｂｏｗ　ｂｅｆｏｒｅ　ｍｅｎ】

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬.

name:  dominic jonas stroebel

nicknames: dom, daddy

age: thirty-seven

gender identity: cis-male.

pronouns: he/him

sexuality: bisexual.

birthday: april 3, 1984.

star sign: capricorn.

occupation: co-owner of mercy’s bistro and daddy’s

neighbourhood: port royale

place of birth: costa del sol, ca

height: 6′1

𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬.

tattoos: his body is a temple no tattoos thank u

spotify most played: ausgehen by annenmaykantereit

languages spoken: german & english

style: neat, expensive, relatively simple. good fits, jewel tones, tailored. he’ll wear a suit jacket and look sharp for work, button downs only @ daddy’s!!!, mostly has a uniform of a black tee and good fitting jeans

addictions: choking whups

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭.

do u think i can get away with leaving this blank

[domstroebel]

laurence-mercer​:

where: full moon party who: @domstroebel

The Full Moon Party had largely been out of Laurie’s hands.  He’d dropped off a paper or two to procure a floating liquor license and helped staff with the best bartenders on their staff but, otherwise? He’d done what he did best - left the schematics in Dom’s court.  Now, arriving fashionably late to their own event, he sidled up to his friend with a grin, offering him a dirty martini as a gag. Laurie’s own cup was filled far too high, more gin then tonic. 

 "Did this turn out how you pictured it, mon ami?” Laurie smirks from beside his business partner, casting the older man a sidelong smirk. “It all seems very bright but I’d have to assume that’s right on plan for you.” 

.

“We’re French now, mon ami?” His tone was dry, and he sipped at a glass (an odd choice for a beach party but he had insisted) trying and failing to hide his pleasure at how everything at turned out. The party had been a success, and his vision was executed perfectly: this was how things usually went when you throttled at control, there was little avenue for error. Dom took the other drink with his free hand, sniffing it before making a face and passing it off to whoever walked by the closest.

“I fuckin’ hate olives, you know that.” Still, there was little that could dull his enjoyment, and a grin tugged crookedly at his mouth. “You can’t start summer off with something monochrome, and look-- they love it. I’ve seen about five girls with Daddy’s written on their tits in sharpie; are you planning on staying up for the afterparty?” It would be at the club of course, a nightmare for the next morning with sandy feet and salty skin, but he planned to milk a good night out of every penny it could offer.

[domstroebel]

for: @kitslcane​ location: daddy’s

He was proud of the club, his hedonistic little creation. Dionysus himself would have appreciated how drinks flowed so easily from the bar, he liked to imagine that the god of chaos would have a place in the neon, wine dripping down his chin like ichor. Dominic’s tie was loosened as he walked through the sea of bodies, of pretty, ecstatic faces tipped up at the ceiling and at each other, dancing as if in worship. The night was coming to an end and he was starting to hunger for his own way of letting loose, a pretty fascination that he could bury himself in for an evening- something beautiful to bring home like a prize. If need was a wicked thing, it held hands with desire, both gripping at his lapels and guiding him to a woman with raven-hued hair, standing half shadowed and half illuminated by the red neon light above her. A drink, mostly empty, was in her hand and Dom approached, appearing by her side. “Someone like you deserves a booth, a better drink, and to definitely not be standing where no one can see you.” He held out a hand, gesturing to the staff to begin arrangements before offering it to her palm up. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

[wrnbrn]

[domstroebel]

— 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲'𝐬.