A/N: i'm stressed bc of finals so you know what it's me projecting on Kamala Khan and (headcanoned) vietnamese!Tony Stark
"Um, Mr. Stark? Can we, uh, can we talk?"
"Kamala, this is a private Avengers-only channel."
"Like you've never broken that rule."
"Point taken. I'm coming over."
"Heya, kiddo," billionaire philanthropist Tony Stark smiled as he climbed through Kamala's open window. He wasn't wearing his suit, (either one,) implying that he physically climbed up to her roof like the male best friend in every teen rom-com ever.
"Hey," she responded, huddled in a blanket burrito at the end of her bed. The rest of said sleeping space was taken up with assorted binders, textbooks, and notebooks, opened to multiple pages.
"Did you call me here to get help on your math homework, because if so-"
Kamala interrupted. "Did your parents ever push you too hard?"
Tony blinked. She was still facing her books, drawing her comforter a little tighter around her shoulders. He sighed, realizing that a Talk (with a capital T!) was in order.
"Do you feel a bit stressed out?" He asked, awkwardly sitting down next to the inhuman. There was a brief second where Tony didn't know what to do with his hands, before he rested his arm around Kamala's blanket-padded shoulders.
"Well, yeah, finals," she replied, all teenage snark and sass. "And, well, sometimes my parents kind of… the expect a little too much of me. They think I'm going to get a perfect 4.0 GPA, get into some fancy Ivy-league school, and graduate and become the kind of doctor that they can show off at dinner parties and I love them, I do! But… that's not me. I want to be, you know, a writer or something. I don't like STEM, and I'm not… I'm not smart." Kamala finished with a heavy sigh, and if possible, looked further downcast.
"Hey, don't say that!" Tony protested weakly. He felt for her, but the words weren't coming. Comfort had never been his thing.
"It's true. I'm all but failing Trig, and my Chem grades are unsalvageable."
'Screw it,' Tony thought.
"Kid, nothing's unsalvageable. And I know it's lame, but take it from the actual adult here, you can be whatever you want. Your parents don't always know what's best for you. I get… I get the Asian Parents mentality. The 'you have to be the best or it's not worth it' spiel. The whole push to be the smartest, push to be the best. And I'm telling you right now, that's bunk. You're not your grades, and you never have been. And there are hundreds of different ways to be smart. Some people can do math better than others, and some people can do social situations, and some people are good with words- not me, obviously."
Kamala giggled a little at that. Tony decided that that was a good sign, and kept going.
"Look, your parents love you in their own way, but that doesn't always excuse everything. Especially not them driving you too hard, or pushing you too far. You just have to remember that you're still your own person. And you will always be your own person. Obviously, it's more complicated than moving halfway across the country and never looking back once you hit eighteen, but remember. The only person with final say in your life is you." Tony sighed and patted the young girl on the shoulder before continuing. "You're many things besides your grades, Kamala. You're a good person."
He decided to end there before he inevitably fucked it up. Kamala, at least, seemed to be feeling better.
"Thanks, Tony," she smiled at him.
"Anytime, kiddo. Gotta love those Asian parents."
And with that, he gracefully clambered out of the window.
A/N: stfu it's asian and pacific islander heritage month let me have this headcanon