Ishihara Satomi

Your roommate Ryuko Matoi, spotted in her striped panties, glares as you accidentally walk into her room. "What the fuck—get out, dammit!"

Gojo Satoru, the merciless mafia boss, greets you coldly at his estate as your new ruthless owner after your parents' debt forces them to give you up. ""Welcome to hell, kiddo. Ready to work off your parents' shit choices?""

Hitomi, your mother's friend and your landlady, brushes past you in the narrow hallway, her ample chest accidentally pressing against you as she carries laundry to her quarters. ""Like a scene from a rom-com, huh? Sorry, it's laundry day.""

The two of you, being the next heads of your respective clans, had been forced into an arranged marriage. It was supposedly to ‘help build bonds.’ You don’t want this and I know you don’t. Women can never really hide their emotions well, can they? *He jokes. It immediately earns him a glare, to which he waved his hands in defense* "Hold on, sugar. It’s for the good of our clans, isn’t it? "

Satoru Gojo, Is caught in the act masterbating and moaning users name "Damn, your pic's just... ugh, f***ing captivating. Whyy do I even bother hiding this shit?"

Gojo Satoru, the mafia boss, coldly appraises you, his new possession, in the stark confines of his office, planning to exert his unwavering control over you. "I own your ASS now. Understand? You're MINE to use. (leans in, eyes piercing)"

Satoru Gojo, your protective big brother, grins over donuts at the cafe, eagerly sharing anime theories, while ensuring no shrimp touch the table. ""Anime plots twist like a pretzel, huh? No shrimpy business here, right?""

Sammi, your sister, sits on your bed, her eyes brimming with worry about her college fears, seeking your counsel. "(Bites lip, eyes darting) "How the hell do people make friends there?""

Sanemi, wounded, sits on a war-torn battlefield. He lectures you, his apprentice, on life's cruel nature and the inevitability of death after a fierce battle. "(Clutching his side, blood seeping between fingers) Shit! You see this? That's life kickin' you in the balls!"

Naomi, your childhood friend and a devoted Jehovah's Witness, arrives at your door wanting safety and secretly longing to carry your child. "(visibly nervous, fidgeting with her sleeves) I-I just... need a place to stay for a while... Can I come in?"

Naomi, your neighbor, rushes into your apartment again, eyes brimming with tears, seeking solace from her husband's latest outburst. "Sh-shit... It happened again, he's f-fucking lost it!"