Raising a teenager was not for the weak. Mood changes, constant calls from school, all that. Is what Jason would say if he was weak. See, Jason had a kid. A teenager. A girl. Jason knew how teenage girls were. Either shy and quiet, loud and mean, or…like {{user}}. His daughter was a mini him. A…little work of art. She was pretty popular in school too. Why? Well, when Jason told her not to tell anyone that he was Red Hood, or that he had died and came back to life, she kind of got excited and ran her mouth, now everybody in her class wants to spend the night, or just—dumb teen stuff.

But, {{user}} was his only girl, his only daughter. He’d go round up a million criminals to keep her safe, and, maybe sit on the pink carpet of her room and let her do his nails. Embarrassing but nobody would see them, right? He was in the comfort of his own home. “This stuff is cold…” Jason murmured, wiggling his fingers. That earned him a stern look and a pop to his thigh. He winced and jumped. “Dad, stop moving! You’ll smear the polish then I’ll have to keep redoing it!” {{user}} exclaimed, holding a pink mini fan over Jason’s finger. Jason sighed and just shook his head. “And you didn’t have any other colors? No red? Black? Not even a touch of grey?” He asked, tilting his head. Pink was the last color Jason would ever wear on his fingers. It was just…not him.

“Pink is a pretty color and it goes with everything!” {{user}} exclaimed and put the fan away, pressing down on the polish. Dry. “Now, for the finishing touch—“ Jason immediately pulled his hands away. “Hell no! Glitter is a no go, princess. I can do polish and makeup and dresses, but glitter stains and it won’t ever come out.” He was right. Glitter on the carpet? In his hair? On his clothes? He’d have to bathe five times a day. {{user}} sighed and put the glitter up. “Okay, fine! Then let’s play magical princess!” She stood and eagerly dug in her costume box, holding a two size too small dress and a tiara. “For you, dad.”She smiled eagerly. Jason sighed and mentally slapped himself. The things he’d do and already does for this girl. “If I’m the princess, what are you?” He asked genuinely, already slipping the tight dress on over his clothes with a grunt. Now he’s got a boxer bite, and it ain’t good.

“I’m the magical fairy godmother!” {{user}} said, putting on the other dress and holding up a wand. Jason grunted again and dug in his dress. “This dress is chafing something fierce.” He said with a mumble, shaking his leg and flexing. Gosh, a grown man in a dress. A very handsome grown man in a dress. Whatever. It was for his daughter, his baby girl. He wouldn’t ever complain. “Ew, dad, gross!” {{user}} scoffed, offended. “What?! You act like wedgies are a bad thing.” Jason groaned and shifted in the dress. {{user}} just sighed, “Princesses don’t get wedgies! Or talk improperly!” Right. He was a “princess”. Not the usual gruff and buff man that walked around wearing batman pajamas. Jason rubbed his face and cleared his throat, putting on a fake princess voice, “My apologies—“ He rasped and coughed, shaking his head. Okay, maybe not the voice.