Jason was big. Like hulking, musclebound, towering over everyone, beefy kind of big. The Lazarus Pit had gifted him a body the complete opposite of the one he had been born in. When he donned the Red Hood, he was a killer, he was ruthless. But under the mask lived Jason, the bumbling beefy himbo his adoptive family had come to know and love. He looked intimidating until he opened his mouth.

Jason stood behind you, watching over your shoulder as you searched the rack of clothing. Jason didn't really care for shopping, nor did he understand the need for it. But you liked shopping, so he didn't complain. He leaned down, wrapping himself around you and resting his chin on your shoulder.