In case you haven’t noticed, Porter Robinson had a series of tweets today talking about his mentality leading up to the development of his upcoming album, “Worlds (and also a bunch of emoticon stuff)”:
i’m going to organize and post some thoughts that have mostly been sitting in my drafts for the last few years
years ago, i realized that i wanted to write an album that focused on beauty above all else.
the feeling of hugeness and gorgeousness and vastness and beauty is what i fucking live for. it is my favorite thing in the world
i kept trying to write songs that both satisfied me artistically and also could ‘work’ in a dj set.
nobody ever heard these songs because they sucked and made me miserable
again and again, i found that making a track 'danceable’ just meant compromising and ignoring what the song really needed
and i found that the more i forced myself to work within those dj-friendly limits, the more i resented the genre.
i realized that the rift between the music that works for DJs and the music that i love had grown too huge to ignore.
i considered quitting 'porter robinson’ and exclusively writing music under an alias.
the reason i didn’t quit is 'language’. to me, that song is the gate between my DJ music and the Worlds stuff.
i’ve had multiple anxiety attacks on stage this year and it was always related to feeling like a fraud. it sucked
the fucking watershed moment in writing Worlds was when i realized that i didn’t have to write songs for DJs
i realized that my need to be honest with myself and with you was greater than my need to be famous or whatever.
i don’t want to cheapen peoples’ past experiences of shows or songs. i still fuck with my old stuff.
that was my favorite music when i was 18. i am 21 now and now i’m writing 21-year-old-me’s favorite music
“don’t forget your roots” dude, if i was still writing my 'roots’ music i’d be writing eurodance DDR shit so don’t even give me that lmao
i’m going to post one of the songs from my album now.
this song is called 'sea of voices’. i’ve been kicking around the idea of making it public for a week.
And so yet another prominent producer has said “fuck it” and raised a giant middle finger to the great EDM behemoth. Sea of Voices is a gorgeous track, and true to the tweets isn’t mainstream electronic at all.
Porter joins the ranks of talented producers like Daft Punk, deadmau5 and Rob Swire (Pendulum, Knife Party), who have denounced the industry recently, if not in the last few years (deadmau5 in particular has been on a crusade against “EDM” since he was still engaged to Kat; Swire had tweets here and there complaining about “not being a musician anymore” and open guilt about making LRAD).
So the big question is…where do we go from here?
It’s been fairly obvious to anyone with eyes and years that EDM is a bubble, one that is definitely going to pop fairly soon. And here we have one of the first signs: talent leaving to do other, less mainstream ventures; talent being sidelined to run labels and find new talent (Skrillex); and talent making stuff that they know and openly state isn’t going to sell as well as the latest Animals clone, because the industry has drifted so far from actually caring about music and talent and instead focuses on marketing and branding.
Here’s the thing: that’s not inherently bad. Mainstream popularity in and of itself is not a bad thing. What matters is what you do with it, and what is being done with it is resulting in a race to the bottom.
EDM is toxic.
You have an industry that consistently pushes the same sound until it’s completely and utterly dead, then moves onto the next one to consume; promotes overpriced festivals and touring more than actual music; and tries its absolute hardest to fit every single goddamn producer that attempts to get in into a box so they look and sound like everyone else. And people fucking buy it.
You have labels that push unethical practices, make artists sign bullshit contracts, and constantly put out the same garbage. Even fucking trance labels are releasing stuff that sounds more like mainstream house than actual trance now.
You have a raver culture with an overbearing drug culture hiding behind it, resulting in fun statistics like tens of felonies at festivals like EDC, deaths at Zedd shows, and cancellation of festivals and performances because outsiders fucking fear us now, like they did in the 90s. You have a culture that focuses on getting coked out and raving to talentless hacks reusing the same sets over and over again. You have a culture that focuses on how scaaaaantily clad those raver chicks are (so let’s have them jiggle their tits for the camera!) and has no problems culturally appropriating things like war bonnets. A culture that has no problems shelling out money for festivals that promoters know they can jack the prices up for and completely screw you, because you’ll buy it anyway. A culture that will keep dreck like Animals #1 on the Beatport charts for weeks, and does the same to songs that sound almost exactly like it.
You have an overall culture and industry that burns out talent, even experienced talent, and/or makes them so bland and forgettable you forget why you liked them in the first place (I’m at this point with Zedd, unfortunately). You have a culture and industry that insists that, really, everything is totally 100% fine and profitable, even as you have powerhouses like Porter Robinson refusing to buy into it and major sites like Beatport cutting staff because they’re, in fact, not actually doing well.
Is it any wonder that people, popular people, famous people, are speaking out against it? Against a system that abuses them and their artistic abilities?
Prompt: Can I request a Clint x Reader where Clint and reader get in a prank war and the reader ends up getting hurt and Clint feels really bad. All the while neither know that they like each other, so Clint tell the reader that’s why he was so worried about her after she got hurt
Warnings: Use of adult language, mention of extremely brief nudity
AN: As with all my Clint x Readers….we’re pretending Laura never existed here
“So this is the new recruit?” Clint asked as he looked over your file with a chuckle. “A raver chick with some tricked out poi balls?” He added as he dropped the file on the table.
“Says the archer with some tricked out arrows.” You quipped back feeling just a little insulted, if anyone could relate to you you’d think it would be him, afterall, you both came from a circus back ground…just you used fabric chains and metal balls and blades and he used a bow and arrow…not too far off really. “And really the poi is just for performance…The rope dart and meteor hammer and the kung fu training that came with them are the parts people tend to worry about.” You added as you let the ball to your meteor hammer hit the floor, splintering the wood under your feet.
“Hey, Coulson and Fury both recommended we take her on, let’s at least see what she can do.” Steve whispered as you began your demonstration. It was hard to tell where the dance and acrobatic skills ended and where your fighting skills began. But it was clear you were well trained in soft weapon combat and you moved with your meteor hammer like it was your best friend. The fire emitting rope dart really got Steve’s attention, seeing how useful that could be. But what got Clint’s attention was your grace and beauty…just too bad about that attitude…it rivaled his own far too much.
~ ~ ~ ~
The morning was dragging on in the Avengers tower. It had only been a week since you showed up and when you weren’t training or fighting you found yourself incredibly bored. But boredom could be easily taken care of, the real problem you found living here was there were no snacks you liked to call just your own…Thor ate all the pop tarts, Tony went through all the blueberries…And Clint would plow through the entire bag of oreos in a sitting! Of course that wouldn’t have been a problem if he didn’t put the empty oreo container back in the cupboard when he was done. But he did, which had gotten your hopes up somewhere around midnight for some milk and cookies…finding a grocery store open at midnight in New York was much harder than you thought.
Earlier in the day the rest of the Avengers had left for a mission. You really were fine staying behind, you understood not every situation called for every member of the team, especially one skilled in soft weapons…Tony and Bruce had stayed behind as well, so it wasn’t like you were totally alone. Only, those two were off doing their science bros thing in the lab on the top floors leaving you to your own devices in the common areas. The only thing that made staying behind so annoying for you was the remark Clint had made on their way out; “Don’t worry (Y/N), next time we throw a rave you’ll be the first we call.” He really had some nerve making fun of your weapons specialty…Robin Hood wannabe! So you sat in the kitchen drinking some coffee as you waited for either those two to come out or for the rest of the team to come home. As you sat contemplating the aggravation Clint has caused you over the past 24 hours the perfect idea came into your head.
You abandoned your mug and ran off to the bathroom at speeds you weren’t aware you could run as you grabbed the toothpaste and returned to the kitchen to get out the oreos. You scraped out the creme into the trash and replaced it with some toothpaste before returning everything where you found it. You giggled to yourself for a while, sipping on your coffee once more to keep yourself from laughing.
“Hey Clint, I got some more oreos.” You called out in a sugary sweet tone, wanting him to think you had done him a favor while he was out.
“Awesome! Thanks (Y/N), you’re the best!” He bounded over to the cupboard excited for his treat. You watched, hiding your smile behind your mug as he bit into the horrible mix of texture and flavors. His smile faded into a look of pure disgust as he spat the minty goop and cookie into the trash. “You are a fuckng monster!” He snapped as you laughed. “Who messes with oreos!”
“Who puts an empty pack back into the cupboard.” You replied, unable to shake the smile caused by the foul look on Clint’s face as he grumbled a vow to get you back for this.
The next day Clint sat at the kitchen table, foot up, relaxing as he flipped through a magazine, a plate of oreos and a nice tall glass of milk sitting in front of him. You eyeballed him suspiciously as you began your daily hunt for a snack. “I picked up some new oreos this morning because you butchered the last of them.” He said flatly as his eyes followed you around the kitchen.
“Nice try…Not buying it.” You quipped before pulling a box of chips ahoy cookies out of the cupboard instead. You let your finger slide under the cardboard, enjoying the safety of being the one to break the seal on the box. “I’ll have these instead.” You stuck your tongue out to him while you poured yourself a nice tall glass of milk.
“Suit yourself.” He muttered with a grin a mile wide, going back to flipping through pages, not really bothering to read anything there. You couldn’t help thinking he’d be almost cute if it wasn’t for how horribly annoying he could be. You so much wanted to eat those cookies, but he had sworn to get you back, and he was acting pretty suspicious.
“Ok…what did you do?” You demanded as you set the glass down on the counter, twirling to face him.
“Wha-…I didn’t do anything! You’re paranoid!” He paused as he got up, drinking from his glass of milk before walking over to you, moving in so close you could feel his breath on your face as his strong arm moved past you and snatched one of your cookies off your plate and shoved it into his mouth. “See?” Crumbs flew from his mouth pelting you in the face before he walked off. You took a moment to calm yourself from the encounter before finally taking a bite of your chocolate chip cookies and a sip of milk, only to spit it all back out with a cry of disgust. Corn starch mixed with water looks way too much like milk! At the sound Clint jumped from around the corner of the door. “Boom!” He exclaimed while crossing his arms at his crotch.
Of course that just meant war. It went on for months. The both of you spent all of your free time thinking about each other and how to top the latest prank. You’d change the language setting on his phone and he’d program your autocorrect to replace common words with curse words. He’d seran wrap your door so you seran wrapped his toilet seat. You covered his car in sticky brightly colored notes in a pattern so they’d read “The raver was here.” so he loaded your hair dryer with baby powder. As time went on it went from revenge on one another over a petty remark or a careless act and became all in good fun, and you each came to expect something to happen…it kept you both on your toes, especially around each other.
~ ~ ~ ~
“(Y/N), what are you doing?” You heard Natasha’s smooth voice ask as you unscrewed Clint’s shower head.
“Have you ever dyed your hair with kool aid?” You chuckled at the idea of a purple Hawkeye as you filled the fixture with the purple powder of grape kool-aid mix.
“Hoping Clint will run out naked eh?” She teased causing you to pause in your work just long enough for her to see you blushing at the comment.
“No…It’s what he gets for putting baby powder in my hair dryer, that’s all.” You insisted as you finished screwing the shower back together. “I’m not even going to be here to enjoy this one… I’m fire dancing with my poi for a charity event tonight.” Even though you had been with the Avengers for some time now you still loved performing, and charity seemed like the best time for that.
Nat just laughed, she’d been watching the two of you torture each other and she knew you both well enough to know either of you would only put this much effort into what you were doing if you liked one another. “You want me to record it for you?” She half teased.
“Oh you are the best!” You just about pounced on Nat with a hug and a kiss on her cheek. You couldn’t wait to see
“Oh hell no! I’m gonna kill her!” Nat held her hand over her mouth trying not to laugh at the purple tone Clint’s skin and hair has taken as he ran out of his room in a towel, holding her phone up to record the experience for you to enjoy when you got home.
Clint looked up hearing the stifled laughter. “Oh Nat no! You were in on this?” His face sunk into disappointment as he discovered his best friend has betrayed him.
She shook her head as she ended the recording. “Just recording.” She promised as she pocketed the phone. “Purple suits you though.”
“Where is she?!” He demanded as he adjusted his grip on the towel. “She’s at a benefit.” She answered as she turned to retreat to her room. “She’ll be gone just about all night, so you have plenty of time.” She paused, turning back to her friend. “You two should really just kiss or sleep together or something…get it over with. These pranks are starting to get a little out of hand.”
Later that night you came home from your benefit, sweaty and tired, your poi safely tucked away in a bag in your hand. You wore a smile of a day well spent, you couldn’t wait to see the video Nat took and you couldn’t help wondering if Clint was still purple. Oh well, those things would have to wait until morning. It was far too late to bother anyone, besides, all you wanted to do was go to bed. “Oh come on.” You wined as you opened the door to find that Clint had duct taped all your belongings to the ceiling. You looked over the situation, you had to appreciate the work Clint put into this one…probably took him all night. “If you did all this then you must still be purple.” You said to yourself as you began to try to pull your bed down, a task you should not have done alone. You gave out a loud yelp as the duct tape gave in and your bed came toppling down on you.
Clint did indeed work all night still purple on his latest prank, he’d only just gotten done in the shower when he heard your yelp and the loud clatter of the heavy furniture falling around you. His eyes went wide realizing what that sound was. He grabbed a pair of pants, pulling them on as he ran down the hall. “Oh no! (Y/N)!” He cried before rushing to lift the bed off of your leg, seeing that the weight and force of the bed landing on your right leg and foot pretty mangled.
“You purple asshole!” You screamed out in pain as he lifted you up, holding you close to him. Despite Clint’s best efforts in the shower he did infact still have a bit of a purple tint to his hair.
“Yeah, yeah…I know, I’m a dick. Now come on, let’s go wake up Dr. Cho.” The joy of a prank well executed on Clint’s face has been replaced with worry as he carried you bridal style, holding you close as if to protect you from any more harm. “You should have come to get me. I’d have helped you get everything down.” You looked up to him as he used his foot to hit the elevator buttons, taking in the wrinkles of his worried face.
“You put a lot of work into that one.” You chuckled resting your head on his bare chest, exhausted from your long night.
~ ~ ~ ~
You had been in the infirmary all night, but despite the lack of sleep clint refused to leave your side, even after Dr. Cho assured him that it was only a few broken bones and you would live. You could see a look in Clint’s eyes that you hadn’t seen before, you could tell he was genuinely worried about your wellbeing and remorseful he let this pranking go this far. His strong hands wrapped around yours as his sweet as pie smile wrapped around your heart, forcing you to confront feelings for him that you refused to acknowledge.
“(Y/N)…I’m sorry I let things go this far…I never wanted to see you get hurt.” He said for about the 100th time in the last few hours. He spoke softly as he watched you rest on the bed, remembering the beauty of your weapons demo when you first came to the tower on SHEILD’s request. The light of the rising sun through the windows bounced off his baby blue eyes, making them almost shine as he watched over you.
“Dude, I’ve forgiven you about 100 times tonight. Can you please just shut up and go to bed so I can get some sleep?” The teasing tone in your voice and the fact that you have refused to let go of his hand was enough to let him know you really didn’t want that, you wanted him to stay, to comfort you.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that if something serious were to happen to you I don’t know what I would do with myself.” He explained as his free hand brushed a strand of hair off your face.
“You’d find someone else to torment I’m sure.” You teased with a grin as you looked up into his perfect eyes.
“I’m serious (Y/N)…I’m done with the pranks. It’s gone far enough.” He paused looking down into your eyes as his free hand balled into a fist. “You…you drive me crazy. I’m never not thinking about you. I close my eyes and I see your face.” His brow was ruffled, creating those creases through his forehead that you found oddly adorable as his fist slowly moved up and down with each point he made. “You make me just want to…” He trailed off into the least intimidating gorwel you’ve ever heard before rushing his lips into yours, his fingers gripping your hair just a bit as his lips danced across yours letting out all the frustration that’s been built up over the past few months.
~ ~ ~ ~
Two Months Later
Clint woke to find a small nerf bow and arrow set sitting by his nightstand and a note that read “Hey baby, Dr. Cho took my cast off last night, and Bucky has been teaching me how to shoot. Good luck. Love you!” He chuckled as he read it before arming himself with the toy. The second he stepped out of his bedroom a small foam dart hit him in the temple.
“HA! Gotcha!” You shouted before sprinting away.
He looked over in the direction it came from to see you running around a corner, the sweet sound of your laughter echoing through the hallways.
“Oh it’s on!” He shouted after you as he ran down the hall to catch you.