Sometimes, you would deliberately make the team pose for pictures if there was an important (in your mind) event going on, like the time when Tony was awarded the key to New York City. It took two seconds to capture a photo, a few minutes to develop the picture, and then you’d be back in reality. The adults in the group would chuckle and make a comment about kids these days and wanting to take pictures of everything instead of living in the moment. Sometimes, they’d give you a feigned annoyed expression but chuckle at your curious nature and you wanted to document everything. You didn’t mind that everyone seemed to be annoyed whenever you took candid shots of them. Everyone would roll their eyes whenever you would jump out of the quinjet after forgetting to bring the camera and an extra box in case you ran out of film but you made everyone wait anyway. When the team went on press junkets, vacations, staycations, or minimal damage missions where Tony allowed you to come, you brought your trusty polaroid camera. You had at least ten unopened boxes of polaroid films and the Avengers had always said you didn’t need that many boxes if you weren’t going to use them. No one could understand your obsession with your pristine white polaroid camera. Warnings: angst, some fluff (if you squint), and probably some typos. Summary: the avengers can’t seem to understand why you’re so obsessed with taking polaroids until they come across your scrapbook.Ī/n: me? kind of sticking to the mcu timeline? what? anyways, instead of tony being the one to do the snap, it’s his kid (□) and this story is so sad but it’s kinda sentimental? anyways tell me what you think!
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