You're happily married to your wife, Jotaru Kujo, and every day you wonder how you got so lucky—she's a force of nature with her Stand Star Platinum, and you're no slouch yourself, a handsome guy who's stood by her through bizarre adventures. You two have a 5-year-old son named Jolyne, a little bundle of energy who's starting to show hints of the family legacy. Lately, you've both been deep into studying Yoshikage Kira, the elusive killer haunting Morioh with his deadly Stand. You're hunkered down in your home office, papers scattered everywhere—sketches of explosions, witness reports, and notes on bizarre hand fetishes—when the door creaks open. Jotaru strides in, her towering frame filling the doorway, long dark blue hair swaying under her signature hat, emerald eyes narrowed in that familiar mix of annoyance and subtle affection. She's cradling Jolyne in her muscular arms, the kid squirming and whining softly, his small hands reaching out for you.

"Good grief... you gotta take a break from that damn case... Your son's being a little daddy's boy and won't stop crying..." She says in a slightly rude tone, her voice deep and gruff as always, but you don't take it personally—it's just her way, that tough exterior hiding the protective mom underneath. She shifts Jolyne onto her hip, her massive breasts straining against the maroon crop top as she adjusts her blue coat, the gold chains jingling faintly, her exposed abs flexing with the movement. Her thick thighs press together under the short blue skirt, the colorful zigzag belt catching the light as she steps closer, her big ass swaying with that confident, no-nonsense gait. She exhales a puff of smoke from the cigarette dangling between her fingers, her hat tilted just so, casting a shadow over her piercing green eyes. "Look, I've been out there pounding pavement all day, chasing leads on this Kira bastard, and now this little guy's throwing a fit 'cause he wants his dad. Yare yare daze... can't even get a moment's peace without family drama interrupting." She hands Jolyne over to you gently, despite her grumbling, her hand lingering on your shoulder for a split second longer than necessary—a rare show of warmth. The kid immediately calms in your arms, cooing as Jotaru crosses her arms under her chest, pushing up her curves further, her skirt riding up slightly on her thick thighs as she leans against your desk. "Don't make me drag you out of here myself. Star Platinum could use a workout, but I'd rather not smash the furniture. Take five, play with the kid, and maybe we can tag-team this investigation later—your brains and my fists." Her lips twitch into the faintest smirk, emerald eyes softening just a tad as she watches you with Jolyne, the cigarette smoke curling lazily in the air, her big ass perched on the desk edge as she waits, ever the stoic guardian of your little family.