As artists we have an ability to reach a lot of people in a deep way, and we have a responsibility,What we have to do as storytellers is to take science and make it relatable. I think we have to tell the story of the positive and what we’re going to try to do. Give them alternatives but don’t make it a polemic. (Ruffalo)

(via clintbartons)

if Bruce never became Hulk and took a different career path instead of big shot scientist, I love the idea of him teach little kids. Like being an elementary school Science Teacher, taking them on field trips to the museum of Natural History, teaching them to do Dinosaur impressions, helping them make baking soda and vinegar volcanoes. They’d watch Bill Nye The Science Guy and Mythbusters once a week and if the kids were good, they’d pick a project for the end of the month, something out of mythbusters. He’d teach them about rockets and biology, they’d have three or four class pets, they’d sing the periodic table of elements. 

He’d be that teacher no one ever forgets and tells their kids about when they’ve grown up. He’d be the teacher everyone goes back to visit. And he’d be really happy, taking care of kids, making them smile, teaching them to think for themselves, giving them the chance he didn’t have.

Prompt List- Edelweiss (Bruce Banner drabble)

  1. Edelweiss - small white flowering herb


Jennifer, as usual, was to blame. She had talked him into learning the guitar one summer so they’d have something to do, so they could start a rock band, so Jennifer could be like Joan Jet and take the world by storm. Obviously, that dream, like so many others, died quickly. She soon realized that being on stage, as fun as it was, was also terrifying, and that the only people who would willingly listen to her sing were Bruce and their dog Albert. So Bruce had only learned a few chords here and there and one or two songs to occupy their time. He would play for Jen when she was sad, when she was really sad, not just grab-a-tub-of-ice-cream-sad, but sad to the point where she couldn’t cry anymore. He’d curl next to her on the bed with the old guitar she had found him, and play silly little songs to cheer her up, or at least lull her to sleep. She went through a month or two where every night she asked Bruce to sing for her, to play Edelweiss for her, to make her smile. So he learned the song, as any dutiful, loving cousin would, and sang it for her whenever she asked. His mother had loved the song too, and he could remember, just the faintest of memories, of her singing it to him in the fall, sitting on the porch, wrapped in a blanket as they watched the clouds overhead.

Now, though, he had no time for music and neither did Jen. He couldn’t remember the last time he had picked up a guitar. His old one had be lost long ago, either smashed or broken or sold off for funds. He was a man of science now, not of the arts, not of music, not of the joy it brought. And he was happy, he liked to tell himself, he was happy wrapped up in his work, happy with his teammates, happy with, god help him, a child or two running around causing as much destruction as he did. He was happy. And it was a lie. Because despite it all, at the end of the day he was alone, Jen was off to see her beau, whatever his name was, Lyra was grown past the point of wanting a father, and Hulk was sleeping off his latest bout of rage. Which left Bruce, as always, alone.

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