#giovanni moretti

[marcogiovenale]

oggi, 18 ottobre, ad alatri (ma anche in streaming online): "multiverso toti _ 1924-2024" - giornata di studi dedicata alle sperimentazioni di gianni toti

cliccare per ingrandire Sarà possibile seguire la giornata di studi anche online collegandosi a questo link: https://us06web.zoom.us/j/2916680613?omn=89525995079

[magnoliadale]

La Cosa Nostra in San Myshuno

Not exactly hidden but their presence has always been here in the city within the Fashion & Spice Districts. The Cosa Nostra operate as San Myshuno's top criminal organization with access to city politics and funds, using their influence to create an environment beneficial to them. Members from left to right : Nico Carboni, Giovanni Maroni, Dante Russo, & Luca Moretti

[saccharinexvenom]

WHERE. dante's home WHEN. early morning, before the funeral WHO. luciano + @cfdante

the previous night had been long. stressful. with the knowledge that nearly every individual from each of the organizations ... gangs ... would be in his club. that the message had explicitly stated each come ... or else. the lines had been drawn. crossed over each other. entangled to the point that luciano wasn't sure what was right. or wrong. was a moretti behind the messages ? or had it all been some fucked up coincidence ? or was whoever behind this fake giovanni bidding their time appropriately ?

it hadn't mattered. it had all faded into the recesses of his mind when a different message had come through his phone. an urgent one. a message that had only been three simple words. but the message behind them. the true meaning had ripped through lucky. and no lack of sleep. no stress that had weighed on his shoulders. would have prevented him from shedding anything that attempted to hold him down. and racing over to the home that he had known so well.

there had been no time to knock. no time to wait for someone to open the door for him. he could hear the pounding of his heart in his ears. as he slipped down the hallway. as he sought out dante. his name fell from his tongue in a hurry. in an urgency. as he moved from room to room. why did the home have to be so goddamn big ?

[filmap]

Bianca Nanni Moretti. 1983

Stairs Via Pantaleo Giovanni, 00152 Rome, Italy See in map

See in imdb

[lcdyinlecther]

@sinnerssquarestart

LOCATION: outskirts of babylon, giovanni's farewell. FOR: open! ( 0/5 )

𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 that oxana thought very little of giovanni -- in terms of respect? certainly not. would you respect an individual who viewed you as the gum wrapper he threw to the street, the scum beneath his shoe that probably cost more than her rent? to her, the answer seemed blindingly clear. giovanni moretti was dead. and the snakes were scrambling. very rarely could anyone witness anything more beautiful. and yet? the serpents weren't the only ones in deep shit. make enemies -- and the sharks will circle upon bloodshed.

somehow? there was someone coming after them all.

oxana had made sure to have some amount of fun, reuniting with friends, clients, new and old. and yet, the time had come when she needed to step away. take a moment for herself, as she made some attempt to decode the next move in this life sized chess game the biggest criminal enterprises in new york city had been thrust into.

she can feel the company before she even sees them, gaze boring into her back. " can i help you? " she begins, taking a drag. the dancer only turns upon exhaling, releasing the smoke into the air. it cradles her -- momentarily offering some kind of fucked up halo. a true angel of darkness.

[isadoraxantcs]

open starter @sinnerssquarestart / giovanni's farewell party location: babylon

Babylon was yet another hidden gem for Isadora to find under a rather tragic circumstance, but she was sure she'll be coming back later. She could only imagine what a lovely place it was when there were less people. She could feel the silent stares at her — people, why did they always have to be so judgemental? and why was it always the others that mattered than focusing on their own shit? yet, she wasn't going to let that ruin her night. she'd come with a mission. the phone call was a rather distasteful move, but the text... Well, let's say she just wasn't happy with someone thinking they have the authority to give her orders. "To Giovanni Moretti," she exclaimed, lifting her glass of wine after feeling the presence of someone to her right. "May he rest in peace." She took a nice gulp before finally looking to her right. "Didn't know him very well, but he certainly knew how to make his presence last, didn't he?"

[classicvirus]

Michelotti's version: 1961 Moretti 600 Sport Spider

The Moretti 600 Sport Spider, based on the Fiat 600, is a classic Italian sports car known for its distinctive styling and limited production. The car featured unique coachwork by Giovanni Michelotti, a renowned car designer who worked extensively with Moretti to create stylish versions of Fiat models. This particular model was known for its elegance and sporty design, which was quite popular in…

[joinmeinenvy]

A Sister’s Betrayal || self para

mentions: @mirayaslan

A heavy weight settled in Francesca’s chest as she sat through hair and makeup, the anticipation of the lingerie show pressing down on her. It felt like a rock, unmoving and suffocating. She considered just vanishing afterward, slipping away unnoticed. She didn’t have the strength to face the two people who’d let her down tonight—each in their own way, but equally painful. But she wouldn't leave Giada. It was her sister's big night, and disappearing would only add to the chaos. The makeup artist stepped back, offering a final flourish, and Francesca’s reflection in the mirror took her by surprise—stunning, almost unrecognizable. But the brief moment of peace shattered when her phone buzzed, the familiar text tone cutting through her like a knife. She glanced at the screen, her heart stopping as she read the message.

Francesca, it seems that even the purest of souls have the darkest of sins. Will you betray one sister to protect another? You are tasked with stealing the fantasy bra, estimated to be worth millions, before its debut on the runway. Succeed and your secrets will be safe. Fail, and several will suffer from your actions. -Giovanni Moretti

Francesca blinked, her stomach sinking as she read the message over and over, each time hoping it might change. But it didn’t. A wave of dread washed over her, and her panicked eyes darted to the makeup artist, who was watching her intently. “Are you alright?” the artist asked, concern lacing her voice. Francesca forced a smile, nodding stiffly, but inside, everything was unraveling. How did Giovanni know? She’d been so careful—so meticulous in covering her tracks. Her stomach twisted at the thought of what this would do to her sister. Both of them. Her vision blurred as she blinked rapidly, fighting the tears. Before she even realized it, her feet moved on their own, carrying her toward wardrobe. She had to get the bra. A few million was nothing compared to what her secret would unleash. If this got out... tonight would be ruined. She would be ruined.

Thankfully, no one seemed to notice Francesca as she moved through the bustling chaos of the dressing room. Surrounded by women in lingerie, she had a way of blending into the background, a talent she'd honed over the years. It was a superpower of sorts, and she usually used it for good. The stylist was busy running around, distracted with other tasks, so Francesca seized the opportunity. She quickly scanned one of the racks of clothes, her heart pounding as she searched for the item she needed. Just as she thought she might have a moment of peace, an aggressive tap on her shoulder snapped her back to reality. She turned around to see the angry stylist from earlier, her arms crossed, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Who are you? What are you doing?" the stylist demanded, her voice sharp.

Francesca’s pulse spiked, but she didn’t hesitate. Her mouth twisted into a sheepish grin, but her mind was already working on a solution. She pulled out a card she didn’t use much—one she kept hidden for emergencies like this.

"You don’t know who I am?" she asked, her voice suddenly colder than she'd intended. "I’m Francesca D’Amiano. Giada D’Amiano’s sister. You know—the hostess of this event?" She crossed her arms, attempting to appear tougher than she felt, though she could tell panic was probably seeping through her expression. "I was told to come here to check on things," she added, her voice dropping to a warning tone, "and I’m sure Giada would love to know how one of her stylists is treating her sister." The word sister lingered in the air, each syllable heavy with accusation. The stylist’s face faltered, the color draining from her cheeks as the realization of her mistake hit her.

"I—I’m so sorry," the stylist stammered, flustered and apologetic. "I didn’t— I mean, I didn’t know. What can I do for you, Ms. D’Amiano?" Francesca's tough façade immediately faltered. The guilt washed over her as she saw the stylist flounder, clearly just trying to do her job.

"It’s okay," she said softly, her voice unexpectedly gentle. "I’m sorry. That was mean." She paused, swallowing the knot of discomfort in her throat. "Giada just wanted me to get the fantasy bra. She wanted to look at it one more time."

The stylist tilted her head, confusion clouding her face as she processed Francesca's sudden shift in demeanor. "We've already put it on the model. I double-checked everything, and there were no issues with the bra. Should I radio Ms. Giada to let her know?" Francesca’s eyes wandered over to Miray Aslan, who was wearing the fantasy bra. A cold chill gripped her chest, and a dizzying wave of panic hit so hard that she crumpled to the floor, barely catching herself on the stylist’s arm.

"Miss D'Amiano, are you alright?" The stylist’s voice wavered, part confusion, part concern. Francesca didn’t answer. Her vision blurred, and she let the stylist guide her to a nearby chair, though she barely felt her body moving. She didn't even notice the tears silently tracing down her cheeks as her mind raced. She felt empty. Numb. Her secret—the one she'd guarded for so long—was about to come crashing down. It would destroy everything. Her sisters would be heartbroken, confused, and full of questions. And the answers to those questions would dredge up memories she wanted to leave buried forever. Why was she like this? Why was she always at the center of every disaster? She was the common denominator in all her failures. I must be cursed, she thought. I’m the problem. Her thoughts spiraled, dragging her deeper into the pit of self-loathing.

A wave of movement in front of her snapped her out of it. "Miss D'Amiano?" a stagehand asked gently, their voice filled with concern. "We’re ready for you to line up, but..." They trailed off, taking in the state of her face. Francesca glanced up at a nearby mirror, and the sight of herself almost made her gasp. She looked like someone had taken every ounce of fight she had left and crushed it. Her makeup was smudged and running, her eyes bloodshot and red. She barely recognized herself.

"Let’s get makeup over here," the stagehand said quickly, clearly uncomfortable with the sight of her distress. "I'm sure they can fix you up." Francesca didn’t speak as they called for a makeup artist to return. She just sat there, feeling the tears stop as the makeup artist worked to fix the outward mess. But no matter how much they touched up her face, nothing could fix what was breaking inside. Her mind drifted, far away from the chaos, to a place where nothing could hurt her. She imagined a world where she didn’t have to face the growing terror inside her. But reality crashed back as the weight of what was coming hit her again. Hurt was coming. And she didn’t know if she could survive it.

[mirayaslan]

Miray Aslan - attending the funeral of Giovanni Moretti on behalf of the Crimsons

[sinnerssquarehq]

Following the shocking and untimely demise of the infamous Don Giovanni Moretti two months ago, the Serpents now stand at the precipice of a new era. The time has come to choose a successor, a new ruler to lead them into the future. In the highly anticipated election, the Serpents will cast their votes for one of the four council members: Jordan Gallo, Dante Moretti, Luciano De La Cruz or Giada D'amiano.

While only votes of Serpent members will count, we would also love to see who your other characters would vote for just for fun! This is not mandatory but is encouraged. The form (which can be found in the discord) will need to be filled out once per character.

[cfdante]

DANTE MORETTI - GIOVANNI’S FAREWELL

Saying goodbye to daddy Moretti with @ellaxmcretti and the rest of the fam in the black and then changing into the green to head to Babylon with @saccharinexvenom (Lucky) on his arm. And wearing his father’s ring the entire evening of course.

[marcogiovenale]

per gianni toti: alatri, 18 ottobre, "multiverso toti _ 1924-2024"

cliccare per ingrandire Sarà possibile seguire la giornata di studi anche online collegandosi a questo link: https://us06web.zoom.us/j/2916680613?omn=89525995079

[carrved]

When? 11:01pm.

Where? Pandemioum.

Who? @cfdante

In another life, he had spent every weekend at Pandemonium. What a thrill it was to be young, dumb, full of alcohol and dancing under the strobe lights. A freshly eighteen year old Gabriel barely had to sneak into the club at the time. The bouncers practically held open for him, as he was life long “friends” with the owner. Nowadays, he didn’t frequent the Pandemonioum so much.

Tonight, Gabriel was there for one person only. Dante Moretti. If there was anyone behind the strange call he and Billie received the other day, it must’ve been Dante. People mourn in different ways. If Dante mourned through making weird, threatening phone calls, Gabriel could believe that. Dante's sense of humor could be sick. Fucked up too. Maybe he thought there was something funny about impersonating his dead father.

Gabriel’s waiting for him in a booth in the back. The lights were low and it was quieter back there. Easier for them to talk. He told the bartender of his arrival and trusted they would get the message to the owner. Hopefully tonight, the two men would get to the bottom of the phone call. Perhaps, they’d get to the bottom of another question as well.

When Dante met him, Gabriel stood up to shake his hand. “Dante,” he said, voice low and concerned hovered in his eyes. Was it sympathy? Empathy, maybe? After all, Gabriel knew what it was like to lose a father. Or was he just an actor trying to sell the part of worried friend? It was the first time he’d seen him since Giovanni’s lifeless shell washed up on shore. “I’m sorry about your father. He was a great man.”

[saccharinexvenom]

giovanni's farewell ---

luciano de la cruz attending with dante moretti .

[billieblackwclls]

day of the call, early night, their place. with ; gabriel gallo — @carrved

the door behind her just closes, shoes barely had the time to come off that she makes her presence known, bag falling into its usual spot, ready to go at a moment's notice. " question for you, lover. " no need of a hello to even confirm his own presence, the aura in the room enough for her to recognize when he is or isn't taking up a space he fills so well. there is a magnetism he commands anywhere he stands, slouches or lays. one that still leaves her impressed, no matter the years used to its orbit. the day had been long, evening longer. depending on his answer, the night could stretch the longest.

" actually, maybe a little game. guess who disrupted the middle of a settlement meeting ? " finding him on their couch, it's overly easy to walk a path behind it. easier to let her hands fall on his shoulders, trailing down his arms as she's leaning in, lips to his ear to whisper some more hints to guide him through a possible answer. " it was the weirdest phone call i've ever received, topping any of your drunken ones. " holed up in her office the whole day, she didn't have the time to assess the wide spread of this incident.

but she did not actually intend to play anything, honeyed demeanor and sultry voice contrasting the much more solemn subject of the inquiry. " i trust you did not, in fact, give out my personal number to one late giovanni moretti ? " of course, she would be upset if he had, death of a man aside. it made no sense for that line to ring at the time it did, much less who the speaker tried to impersonate, as he had been retrieved from the river mere days ago. she knows gabe to be far more intelligent than a lot of people make him, trusts he keeps her as an ace up his sleeve and not displayed into his casual hand. still, he is the fastest link to the late head moretti, it's more than fair of her to ask. she simply hopes she was not part of his gang leader's little black book.

[ladyofmelk]

How would the brothers karamazov be if it was an early 2000s italian telenovela with a low budget? 🧵

We follow the (dis)adventures of the Morettis (Moretti < moro = brown), a roman family that owns a very famous bar.

The head of the family is Matteo (I've never met a single Teodoro (fyodor) in my life + Matteo means God's gift too)

His oldest son Giorgio (again, I've never met a single Demetrio (Dmitri) in my life + Giorgio is a name related to the earth > the goddess demeter) never finished highschool, he got in the army but soon dropped out to follow his new girlfriend Caterina to Milan.

Caterina is the daugther of a retired soldier who got Giorgio into the army in the first place. While he was with Caterina, though, he became friends with her sister Agata, who introduced him to her friend Giulia, who everybody calls Lia (Grushenka. Same shit, you won't find any Agrippinas here).

Matteo had Giorgio with a young woman named Adele, whom he was forced to marry when he got her pregnant and divorced a few years into their marriage. Matteo remarried an even younger woman, Sofia, who gave him two children named Giovanni and Alessio.

Giovanni is about to graduate in natural sciences. He rarely visits his family, but he happened to pop by when Giorgio and Caterina were there too. He secretly fell for her and planned to move to Milan as well to follow her and keep and eye on his brother.

Alessio (whom everybody calls Lele) has always been a quiet, lovely child. He dropped out of uni a few months into the semester to follow his true calling and become a priest. He is following a seminary in Vatican city and visits his father every weekend. (Let's pretend they're roman catholics for the sake of this. DOSTO DONT CRUCIFY ME)

Paolo "Cacaliscia" (literally "smooth shit", best rendition of Smerdyakov i can give you), the three Morettis' "distant cousin", works at the family bar and is the one who knows all the gossip. He despises his job and how his "uncle" treats him, so from time to time he tells everybody's business to the right (wrong) person.

Paolo's scenes are always in the bar. In every single episode with him he's either cleaning glasses with an annoyed expression, leaning on the counter with a shit eating grin ready to gossip or just being the typical caricature of a gay guy in an early 2000s piece of media.

Lele is seen with one (1) signature friend, Michele Raccattoni (raccattare=to collect), who's in the seminary with him but is not very... priest like. The directors LOVE adding scenes of him coming back to their shared room late into the night and Lele switching on the lights annoyed.

The show is top of the charts for five years, has 12 seasons and is still ongoing, everyone and their mother lost their shit when Lele almost left the seminary for Lia and some actual radical priest condemned the show during a sermon (he wanted Lia and Giorgio together).

Giorgio's actor has become italian teenage girls' n1 dream guy and in 2021 there's the start of a whole fandom for the pairing between Alessio and Michele. People who like Giovanni are considered edgy and no one likes Paolo except three Cacaliscia apologists on twitter dot com (me).

In the final episode Lele finally rejects the avances of Elisa, a girl in the seminar who has a crush on him, and becomes the youngest cardinal in Rome because he can. He celebrates the double marriage between Lia/Giorgio and Caterina/Giovanni. Paolo is the flower girl.

The ceremony is stopped when Niccolò, a boy whom Alessio had taken under his wing, storms into the cathedral and tells everyone that Matteo has been found dead. It turns out Paolo had murdered him. The two couples find his will. He wanted to leave everything to Alessio, who decides to divide his inheritance between his brothers and their wives. While he's looking for Paolo to tell him he's going to get some money too he finds out he hung himself in the church confessional.

And uhh thats it. Notte notte.