A/N: I am always here to spread curl-positivity~ something I am needing these days~ idk why but I was feeling a Lance, Keith, and Pidge vibe from this~
“I missed this so much,” you sighed, finishing the top layer of your hair. The bathroom smelled strongly of burnt hair but right now you couldn’t bring yourself to care too much. Setting the flat iron (a tool you generally called the “straightener”) down on the counter and turned it off, running a comb through your hair. “It’s been too long.”
It had been years since you last straightened your hair. There wasn’t an opportunity for that in space. The first time you washed your hair on the Castle, Lance couldn’t keep his hands away from your hair. Sure, it was severely damaged and barely curled, but he couldn’t believe that you’d been keeping this secret from him all this time.
Time went on and Allura helped you find products that were good for your hair and helped tame it. She had similar hair, after all.
Lance told you all the time that he loved your curls. Especially when it got healthier and curlier, he found himself attempting to run his fingers through your hair. His actions did nothing but made your hair frizzy, but you didn’t mind. His amazed expression and soft touches always left you smiling.
When Lance saw you straightening it, though, he frowned. You saw his expression in the mirror. “Y/N,” he said slowly, “what did you...?”
You smiled, trying to act like you hadn’t seen his disappointed face. “I straightened it!” you announced, running a hand through your hair like you used to. “It’s so pretty now~” You couldn’t get over how soft it was when it was straight.
“I- I liked it better when it’s curly,” he admitted quietly. He cleared his throat and his voice became more bold. “It’s pretty straight, but it’s beautiful curly.”
Then he turned away. It wasn’t his decision how you did your hair - he could only state his opinion. Either way, he still loved you. He just thought you looked prettier natural.
You left it straight for a few days - as long as you could - and after that, you didn’t straighten it as much.
Lance’s praise helped you feel proud of your curly hair. You’d never really felt that way before.
“Is... your hair naturally...?”
You had just come out of the shower, water dripping from your wet hair onto the fabric of your shirt. “What?”
Oh. You put a hand to your hair, feeling the limp bumps and waves. The water weighed your hair down, keeping the curls from fully coming to life for now. “Yeah. It is,” you said shortly. Then you took off down the hallway, to hide out in your room and figure out what to do about your hair
An hour or two later (it really depends on the humidity), when your hair was mostly dry, you saw Keith again. He wouldn’t couldn’t stop staring at your hair. Though your hair was damaged beyond belief and not very curly, it was beautiful.
When it was healthy, Keith decided to to tell you what he thought. “It’s beautiful,” he would mumble, taking a strand of curl and twisting it between his fingers.
Normally you hated people touching your hair. That’s why you started, actually - straight hair is normal, and that’s what you wanted to be. With straight hair you didn’t get questions about how long it takes to dry your hair, or people trying to pull down a curl to see how long your hair actually was. Keith didn’t push it, though. What he did was comfortable, relaxing.
You never straightened your hair again.
Pidge cheerfully burst into your room without bothering to knock. It was normal for her - she had never knocked, never needed to. The two of you were best friends, teetering on something more.
The only thing holding you back was...
“Is your hair curly?” Pidge stood, frozen in the doorway, staring at the hair on your head. She couldn’t believe this was real. “Is that natural?”
“Yeah,” you said hesitantly, watching her carefully.
This was a cause of great anxiety for you - if people found out you had curly hair they usually asked a lot of questions. “How long does it take to straighten it?” “Why do you straighten it?” “Will you let it be curly one day so I can see it?” “How long is it when it’s straight?” Those questions got to you and one day you decided you could just straighten it forever and nobody would ever know. Of course, you protected your hair and your secret carefully. Nobody could know.
“It’s so pretty,” she said softly.
“It’s gross,” you objected. “Really damaged. It’s so flat! This isn’t what it was really like.”
“Can I see what it’s really like?”
“It’ll take a long time to get it healthy again,” you told her. “And there aren’t a lot of pictures with my curly hair when I was younger.”
Pidge frowned, disappointed, but didn’t ask any more questions. The two of you sat on your bed, watching movies. One time she reached over to touch one of the limp curls, surprised by how much softer it was than when it was straight. “Can you... let it be curly for a while?” she asked softly.
Normally that question annoyed you, but coming from Pidge...
