Alex-Watt

Never Ever

Summary: 

“What’s your ideal type?” Eric, one of the hosts of After School Club, asked Mark. 

“Y/N,” he admitted. The other GOT7 members exchanged looks, and Eric laughed – but then his smile faltered when he realized Mark was serious. 

“Wait, really? Y/N? You know the stories about her, right? What, are you looking for trouble or something?”

Now it was Mark’s turn to smile. “Definitely.” 

Pairing: Mark x You (Idol!Reader) 

Genre: Humor and Angst 

[Mini Masterlist

HUGE thanks to @the-porcelain-doll-xo for beta reading this for me! And go check out her writing okay she’s such an inspiration, and if you love GOT7, she’s got you covered!!

SPECIAL FEATURE ALERT: This is a reader-interactive fic, so in the box below, if you enter a name (yours or a character’s, for example), and click “submit”, it will swap out “Y/N” for that name. Y/L/N stands for “your last name.” None of the information entered is stored. This feature does not work on dashboard/feed/mobile app unfortunately.

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Y/N’s POV

“Hey.

The voice was unfamiliar so you ignored it, still mostly passed out anyway from all the alcohol. But apparently, the person wasn’t going to take the hint because a moment later you felt a hand gently touching your shoulder. “Hey, wake up. You can’t sleep here, honey.”

“Wanna bet?” you murmured and turned over.

“Oh, let me handle this,” another voice, this one’s clipped tone all too familiar, snapped, and then someone was slapping your face and saying into your ear, “Get the hell up, kid, before I tell Jason to drag your ass out of here.” Jason, your bodyguard, who had actually forcibly carried you out of places many times before. This wasn’t an empty threat. You groaned and pried your eyes open, and your bleary gaze landed on the bottle of Jack beside you. Despite the awful taste in your mouth and the headache you were starting to feel, you snatched it up and took a swig as you sat up, tossing a slow grin at the two men standing before you with heavy disapproval. One was your manager, Kevin, and the other was…a preacher?

That’s when you noticed the morning light falling in colors through the stained-glass windows, the rows of wooden pews, the crucifix hanging above you…because you were sprawled out on the altar of a church sanctuary.

Wow. Wild night.

“What time is it?” you yawned, about to bring the bottle to your lips again but Kevin seized it from your hands, shooting you a look.

“Seven AM,” the preacher said. “I have to start getting ready for service, so if you could kindly—”

“Sure,” you nodded. “I’ll give a sermon. That’s basically just a rant about how we’re all going to hell, right? I love reminding people that they’re all damned.”

The preacher gaped at you and your grin widened, but then your manager caught you by the arm and yanked you roughly to your feet.

“Excuse us, Preacher,” he apologized and you winked as Kevin towed you down the aisle and out of the sanctuary. Your legs were a little wobbly – but after so many years of drinking, you’d built up a pretty strong tolerance for liquor, and considering how many shots you’d thrown back last night, you were impressed at your stability. Although your headache was starting to intensify now.

“So,” you swallowed against the pain as the two of you made your way out of the church, “what’s the plan for today? I vote for a day off – oh, I know this little breakfast place that has the best pancakes you’ve ever eaten—”

“You really think you deserve a break after your little stunt last week?” Kevin snapped.

Your face hardened at the memory. “Look, that photographer was a sleazy dick. He kept brushing his hands over Lucy when he thought no one was looking! That’s disgusting as it is, but she’s only sixteen! I would punch him again, given the chance.”

“No, you absolutely will not.” You reached the parking lot, and Kevin waited for you to get into the back of the car before sliding in behind you himself, as if making sure you didn’t run away. Jason nodded at you from behind the wheel. “Anyway,” Kevin said briskly as he gestured for Jason to start driving. “There’s been a change in your schedule.”  

“I’m not doing another fan meet, if that’s what it is, unless you want my head to explode. Migraine,” you clarified at Kevin’s confusion. You had never minded those events.

He shook his head and handed you his phone as Jason pulled out of the lot. You glanced down at the screen and found a video waiting for you, an After School Club episode from a few days ago.

“What is this?” you asked and when you looked up, Kevin was grinning at you.

“Just hit play.” So you did.


Mark’s POV – A few hours later

Mark wrinkled his nose, trying not to sneeze as his makeup artist patted the concealer on his face into place, adding the finishing touches. Beside him, Jackson and Bambam were also trying and failing to remain still as their hair was carefully patted into place and their clothes smoothed. It was dark in the wings of the stage, but only a few feet away, bright light bore down on the talk show set. He could hear the chattering of the live audience and the cacophony of the tech crew getting things ready. They were going live in just a couple of minutes.

“You ready?” Jackson asked as he came over, picking a piece of lint off Mark’s shirt.

Mark rolled his shoulders and flashed Jackson his best aegyo smile. “Oh, yeah.” In reality, he was exhausted. They’d been on their feet for the last sixteen hours, running through airports, in the studio, doing last minute promos for their upcoming album. They were lucky they’d even managed to shove some food into themselves in between the chaos. Once this show was done, they could finally get some rest. Mark was already half-asleep behind his camera-ready smile.

People were getting into place now. The host, a loud and amicable man by the stage name of Alex, was settling into his armchair, and Mark took a final sip of water from the bottle he was holding, feeling the reflexive nerves tighten his stomach. At least this was only a short interview, and a laid back one at that. Alex was known to be pretty chill. It wasn’t like a variety show where they would have to do a lot. Just talk, and with Jackson and Bambam here with him, Mark wasn’t too worried about getting tongue-tied.

“Everyone ready?” the head cameraman called, but it was more of an order than a question. “We’re live in five, four, three, two…” He gave a thumbs up, and Alex’s face lit up as the cameras rolled. Here we go, Mark thought.

“Hi guys, welcome back to another episode of Afternoon With Alex,” Alex beamed into the camera. The crowd applauded, and Mark handed his water bottle to a passing PA, clapping Bambam on the shoulder as he came to stand with him and Jackson. “Today we have three members of a certain group you all know and love…you could say they usually ‘got 7’ members…” The three of them groaned but then immediately smiled as they were ushered onto the set, “Here they are – GOT7’s Jackson, Mark, and Bambam!”  

They walked across the stage and waved to the crowd, bowing to Alex before taking a seat on the plush sofa resting opposite his armchair, Jackson sitting between Bambam and Mark. The set was nice – small and spacious, giving it more of a living room feel than a stage.

“Hi boys, how are you?” Alex turned his thousand-watt smile on them. At their chorus of ‘Good’ he continued, “So, you have a new album in the works, correct?”

More promotions, Mark swallowed a sigh and sat back, letting his friends do all the talking.

He’d contented himself to dreaming about his bed, and it was only when Jackson nudged his shoulder that he snapped back to attention.

“Mark hyung is the only one,” Bambam said in response to some question Alex had asked.

“I’m the only…what?” he laughed to cover up his embarrassment for zoning out.

“The only one who might have plans for Valentine’s day,” Bambam finished with a naughty smile. Valentine’s Day? Why—

Oh wow. That was today. That’s what the vase of roses on the coffee table next to them was for. And the pink balloons hovering behind them. And their red outfits. In the midst of everything, Mark had forgotten all about the holiday.

“They’re just kidding,” he shook his head with a laugh. “There’s no one in my life right now.”

Alex raised a brow mischievously. “That’s not what I heard.”

Oh boy.  

“You mentioned in an After School Club episode that your ideal type is Y/N,” Alex prompted.

Ah, there it was. It was Valentine’s Day, after all, and what decent host wasn’t going to bring up a hot topic like celebrity romance? “I did,” he smiled bashfully, picturing her. Y/N. An idol among idols. Her face was on thousands of websites and billboards, on posters and in magazines, and yet the image of her that came to mind and made him warm was completely different.

“That was a good episode,” a voice said from behind, and Mark felt the blood drain from his face as he and the members jerked their heads around to see—

Y/N. In the flesh. Standing half-hidden in the wings of the stage. At the sudden attention on her, she grinned and walked onto the set as the audience went wild. Bambam clapped a hand over his mouth, Jackson was in hysterics, and Mark…

Mark couldn’t seem to get his heart to restart.

The three of them watched as she bowed to Alex before coming over to the sofa, and Jackson half-knocked Bambam onto the floor in his hurry to make room for her. Laughing, Y/N settled in between Jackson and Mark. There wasn’t much space, so her bare thigh was pressed flush against his – and that was another thing. As part of her image, she was almost always dressed in all black, usually jeans and leather, but today she was in a red dress and tight denim jacket. And Mark was not unmoved.

“So, unless you’ve been living under a rock,” Alex addressed the audience, “you’ll know that this lovely young lady is none other than Y/L/N Y/N, the main rapper and vocalist of the popular girl group, 7/11.” Another cheer from the crowd, and Alex turned back to her. “Thank you for joining us today, Y/N.”

“How could I not?” she said with a sly look at Mark. He could feel his face burning as he ducked his head. Well…he was wide awake now. He’d figured there was a chance she would see the ASC video, but he’d never imagined this would be the result.  

“Yeah, tell us about your reaction to finding out that you’re Mark’s type.”

Y/N nodded. “I called Jia, one of our other members, and I was like, ‘Jia-yah, there’s this cute boy who likes me!’”

Cute. Mark could feel Jackson looking at him smugly but all he could focus on was her. She’d called him cute.

“And what did Jia say?” Bambam asked eagerly.

“She told me to stop drunk-dialing her.” They all laughed at this, and Mark couldn’t help but marvel at her. This was the same girl who was as famous for her temper as her charm. Not a month went by where she wasn’t the front page of some tabloid, busted for a new bar brawl or gambling or getting wasted in public. The media called her a catastrophe, but man, did she clean up nice.

Alex was having a great time either way, apparently. “What’s your ideal type then?” he asked her. “We already know Mark’s. Jackson likes healthy girls, and Bambam likes a girl with a pretty smile. What do you look for, Y/N?”

“Oh, a heartbeat, usually.” She shrugged, pleased at their second round of laughter. “I don’t know, really. I don’t think I’m girlfriend material, so I don’t give it a lot of thought. And c’mon, which parents are going to approve of me for their son?”

“Aw, you’re not a bad person,” Jackson said, and she shot him an amused look.

“I didn’t say I was bad. I’m just not good. There’s a difference.” Mark watched her carefully cool expression with intrigue.

“I’m sure that’s true,” Alex said quickly, clearly hoping to regain control of the conversation before they crossed into controversial territory. Teenagers loved Y/N’s rebellious, screw-the-rules attitude, but their parents were less than happy to patronize her and her group’s music. “Anyway, I was hoping we could end our show with a little Valentine’s day game.”

Dammit. Mark plastered a smile on his face to hide his apprehension. A game? Not only was he going to have to do something most likely embarrassing, but he would have to do it in front of Y/N. “You all remember the Kiss The Radio event GOT7 did in 2016, yes? The one where the members put on lipstick and kissed Bambam?”

Mark felt his stomach drop. Where was Alex going with this? They nodded, and he continued. “Right. I was thinking we could do something similar – the GOT7 members will put on some lipstick again but instead of Bambam, they’ll give Y/N a kiss and one of these roses,” he gestures to the vase. “And then she’ll consider of all of you and choose one member to be her valentine.”

Before Mark could die of horror and excitement, Y/N raised her hand. “I have a suggestion,” she said, and Alex nodded in encouragement. “Since the boys have already done this, why don’t we switch it up a bit? I’ll give them a kiss and a flower, and they can decide amongst themselves who will be my valentine. Maybe rock, paper, scissors or something,” she chuckled.

“Oh, I like it!” he clapped, and Mark felt a fluttering in his stomach. To be kissed by Y/N…

The four of them stood up as she began to prepare. She was handed a tube of liptstick from a PA, and as she walked over to the camera to use its reflection as a mirror, Jackson elbowed Mark playfully. “I should take a leaf out of your book and tell girls I like them during interviews,” he smirked. 

When Y/N was done, smacking her lips at the excited audience, she came back and plucked three roses from the vase, one pink, one red, and one white. That’s when I Like You stared playing in the background, and after pausing to sniff the flowers, she turned to the boys with a gleam in her eyes.

It was time to begin.

The GOT7 members lined up at the center of the stage, and Y/N made her way casually to Bambam first.

“Hi Bambam,” she dimpled, holding the roses behind her back. She looked like a shy schoolgirl.  

“Hey,” he tried to say coolly, but he just sounded flustered. With an affectionate smile, she offered him the white rose and he accepted it, grinning nervously. But there was an uncharacteristic softness in Y/N’s eyes as she touched his face, and it seemed to put him at ease as she pulled him down to place a kiss on his forehead. Bambam looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry after she let him go, and she chuckled.  

When Y/N stepped towards Jackson, however, her entire demeanor shifted. Mark watched with fascination – and something else – as she tilted her head back and stared up at him from beneath hooded eyes, a lazy smile on her face as she playfully dangled the pink rose in front of him. Jackson took the rose with a squeal – which was abruptly cut off when Y/N tore her jacket off, threw it on the ground, and yanked Jackson into her arms before pecking him on the cheek. When she released him, he collapsed dramatically on the ground in a heap, earning a laugh from the audience.

 And then it was Mark’s turn. His heart pounded behind his ribcage as she moved into his bubble of space. Somehow, up close, she was even lovelier, and Mark fought the urge to brush her hair back and hold her close until whatever rage was driving her reckless behavior faded. Instead, he just beamed down at her as she shyly held out the red rose. His eyes never left hers as he took it, and then her hands, surprisingly cool for the hot weather, were on his face. Gentle, she was so gentle, as if she was afraid she would break him. Y/N stretched up on her tiptoes, and for the briefest second that also felt like an eternity, her lips hovered over his.

And then she moved higher to kiss his nose.

The audience might have been cheering, but Mark couldn’t hear over the ringing in his ears as she drew away. Unlike him, Y/N didn’t look flustered or excited or affected at all. She just looked…exhausted. But the smile never left her face.

Before Jackson, Bambam, or Alex could say anything, Mark hesitantly reached for her hand, and she gave it with surprise.

“Y/N…” he tried not to sound like a nervous twelve-year-old, “will you be my valentine?”

She looked at him, really looked at him, and then with the most heartbreaking smile, she said, “Yes.” But it wasn’t her smile or her answer that broke his heart – it was her eyes.

Because her eyes were saying no.


A/N: So this was supposed to be a completely different oneshot, but my brain kept screaming, Make it longer, you heathen!! BUT I’m not sure if this was a good idea, so if you guys don’t like it or it doesn’t get any notes, I’ll delete it and just write the oneshot :)

UPDATE: Part 2 posted [here]! 

Tagging my frens who probably don’t want to be tagged but idc because this is part of being my friend: @hoegiwa, @nunchiwrites, @kpopfanfictrash, @tousdae, and @lizardsoo - thanks for constantly inspiring and motivating meeee

Office-Safety Tips for Your Soul-Sucking Desk Job

In Shouts & Murmurs, Alex Watt offers advice:

Sit Up Straight

Failure to sit up straight, with your shoulders squared, may result in back pain or one of your bosses being able to see what’s on your computer screen. You don’t want to be paying for physical-therapy sessions. Even if whatever Web site you’re looking at isn’t bad enough to get you fired, you still won’t be able to afford physical therapy.

Photograph by Martin Parr/Magnum

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Spin the Bottle

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ShitiBike (CitiBike Parody) (by Alex Watt)

Fuckin’ metacomedy, right? The sport of kings.

Same Old Agenda is Just Rolling Along,
Media Diverts Us to What They Say is Wrong,
Yet Histories Must Be Seen and Understood,
And the Revolutionaries in the Brotherhood,
Yes Media Chatters in This System Dysfunctional,
Yet Doesn’t Mention Most Revolutions are Cultural,
Transform Society with its Laws and Formality,
Until the New Normals Become Normality,
History Shows the Movement, Look and Find,
The Force That’s at War with All Humankind
—  Alex Watt
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Watt’s Nut Shot

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“Dogs and the Sounds I’ve Assigned to Them”