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svtegg · 5 years ago

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seeking shelter (SVT apocalypse!au)

♡ wordcount: 3,4k ♡ chapter 11/? (ch.1, ch.2, ch.3, ch.4, ch.5, ch.6, ch.7, ch.8 ch.9 ch.10)

♡ this won’t make any sense if you haven’t read the last part so make sure to catch up on those before reading! they’re all linked above!

♡ rating: PG-13 death/violence, language

♡ pairing: svt x reader

The car rolled slowly through the makeshift gates of the camp, I could see Chan’s familiar face outside the car. I was the first to jump out of the truck, taking a deep breath of fresh air and savoring the smell of the clean air. Mingyu and Seungcheol walked out of the dining building, probably having heard the revving motor of the car outside the gates. The screeching of the metal sounded once again as Chan and Wonwoo closed up the gate. Minghao appeared shortly after, coming jogging out of the room with the number 1 missing from the door. As the group gathered around the Jeep, the rest of the people in the car emerged. “45 liters of gas, you’re welcome.” Soonyoung stated proudly as he started unloading the containers from the back of the car. “We ran into some trouble on the way, this is Jihoon and Jun. They’re the people from the boat you heard about Minghao.” Joshua said, mostly talking in Seugcheol’s direction as he helped Soonyoung unload the car. I looked up at Mingyu who had come up beside me. “You okay?” He mouthed down at me, I just nodded and looked up at Jihoon who was standing across from me, sleep evident on his face. “I think this one needs some food…” I suggested, looking over in Seungcheol’s direction. He shared some meaningful looks with Joshua and turned to walk away. Joshua then lead Jihoon with him to the A framed dining building. I took a meaningful glance at their backs, half understanding what the shorter male was in for. I turned back to the rest of the group. “Oh, yeah. This is Jun. He has an infected cut on his upper torso. Its dressed and cleaned but he is gonna need some antibiotics, and maybe something for the pain so he can sleep properly tonight. Mingyu, Chan?” I looked at the two males, having understood that they were the people who oversaw medical business in camp. They nodded and as they chatted amongst themselves, I could feel the exhaustion taking over my body. I rolled my neck, letting it crack loudly. When I turned back to the car, I saw Soonyoung sitting on the edge of the trunk, slightly digging the tip of his shoe into the dirt. Wonwoo’s back was visible as he carried the last two cans of gas into the garage. Minghao had disappeared with Chan and Mingyu to help them with taking care of the injured boy we had brought with us. And as suddenly as that everything became quiet. I sighed and sat down beside Soonyoung on the edge of the popped trunk.

“What a day…..” Soonyoung sighed, leaning back on his hands and letting his head fall back. I hummed in agreement, feeling my nose ache as everything suddenly caught up to me. I reached up and touched my nose. My fingertips coming in contact with something wet. I looked down at my hand, the dirty fingertips covered in coagulated blood. It wasn’t a lot, and I was guessing the cut on my nose would heal itself with time. “You alright?” Soonyoung rasped beside me, his head bowed down to look at my face. I nodded and let my hand fall into my lap as I looked up at the man beside me. His hair was still slightly damp from the rain, his face dotted with specks of dirt, oil and dark brown blood. He was smiling gently, his lips thinning out slightly as his mouth stretched into a small smile. His chest rose in a long intake of breath and then he got up, the car wobbling slightly as his weight disappeared from the back. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He spoke silently as the breath he had just taken rushed out with the words he had muttered. His hand reached out to help me up, and I took it silently half expecting him to take me to the A framed building and helping me find some first aid kit in the kitchen or something. But when he made his way up the first set of stairs, looking back over his shoulder as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans to see if I was following him I felt confusion take over me. I put all my effort in not letting it show on my face, but as we reached the door with the rusted number 42 on it and Soonyoung opened it I couldn’t help but furrow my brows.

“Ladies first.” He giggled, his eyes turning into those crescents that could melt my heart at any time of the day. I looked up at him, a very unladylike snort leaving my mouth as I stepped inside the room he held the door open to. It smelled familiar, like cotton and laundry. A hint of pine and something green. The room had the same layout as the one I stayed in on the floor above, but looked different. There where two of the beds I had pushed up against the wall together, with real sheets and pillows. A dresser was placed in almost the same spot as in my room, but this room also had a small table and two chairs in one corner. A tall bookshelf was placed to the left of the door, littered with books and folded clothes. And a rifle leaning casually against the side of it. “You can take of your shoes if you want to!” Soonyoung said casually as he toed his dirty vans of, letting them flop against the capet as he rushed into the bathroom in the back. I sat down on one of the chairs and lifted my leg to untie my boot as I let my eyes wander around the room. There was a clear bottle on the nightstand, the same kind of lamp on top of the surface as the one in my room. In fact, even the crooked picture on the west facing wall was the same. I let out an amused breath as I pulled my second boot off, stretching my feet out in front of me. I could hear Soonyoung racket around the bathroom slightly before he appeared in he doorway with something in his hands.

He looked at me, not at my eyes but my face, probably assessing the damage. He moved over to the bed, letting the supplies scatter around the unmade bed as he turned to face me. “Sit here.” He patted the bed in front of him, and I moved without question, begging to feel the exhaustion settling in my limbs. As I plopped down in front of him, the male knelt down before me his hands unwrapping something that looked like cotton pads. “This might hurt a little” Soonyoung warned as he started patting the wound on my face with the cotton pad. It burned immediately and I hissed, my hand instinctively clasping around the male’s wrist. He chuckled slightly as he continued his ministrations. After a few seconds, he put down the cotton and my hand fell from his wrist into my lap as my eyes followed his hands. In a few seconds he had unwrapped a band aid. I looked at him as he parted my knees to come closer. His eyes concentrated onto my nose as he gently put the band aid over the split skin on my face. “There. All better.” He whispered as he let his hand glide down my nose.

“Its probably gonna bruise, but its not broken. Which is good, we wouldn’t want you pretty face to get all messed up now would we?” He laughed in a joking tone, I let out a soft laugh, my eyes falling to my hands. Soonyoung moved around the room some more and I was starting to get up to put my shoes back on and leave when he spoke. “You hungry, Y/n?” He asked gently, his back turned to me as I looked over at him. “Sure?” He turned around, his hand clasped around something that looked like a pack of dried mangoes, his face broken into a smug looking smile.

As we sat on the bed in silence and ate the sweet yellow fruit, I tried to not look at the male too much. He was sitting on the top of the bed, leaning against the wall and looking up at the roof above us. He looked to be in deep thought. I took a bite of the piece I was currently eating just as the male spoke up. “When we were looking for gas Jihoon told me that Jun had saved his life.” He said, his voice low and deprived of any sort of emotion. I looked up at him, lifting my legs up on the bed to fold them under myself. “They had been a group of five living in a boat out at sea, when one of the guys had snapped- probably going crazy from the situation and killed them all. He was going to kill Jihoon when Jun had saved him.” He continued, lowering his head to look at me. “I’m not going to pressure you into saying anything but…” Soonyoung continued, looking down at his hands that where now folded together in his lap. His dark hair flopped into his face. I was speechless for a few seconds, waiting for him to continue and after a few heartbeats he slowly continued. “I’m guessing something like that happened in your group too?” He tried, his eyes darting to my face as he turned his body towards me slightly. I sighed as I chewed on the last bit of the mango, letting some seconds pass before answering him.

He ran a hand through his hair, letting his black bangs part in the middle and frame his face like a gorgeous black picture frame around a beautiful piece of art. “Yeah, twice actually.” I whispered, lowering my head. Silence filled the room once again, but just for a second. Quiet rustling took over and then suddenly I felt a dip in the bed I was sitting on. The smell of musk, oil, dirt and sweat enveloped me as Soonyoung wrapped his arms around my shoulders and hugged me tightly. He said nothing, just let me cry quietly against his shoulder for a few minutes before he spoke again. “How old was Junghyun?” he whispered, his hand stroking lightly between my shoulder blades. “Six.” I breathed against him, my forehead leaning on his shoulder as I breathed in. He was warm, and he smelled like fresh air and pine, like dirt but not dirty. It was pleasant and it comforted me. The feeling of his hand up and down my upper back coaxed my body into a comfortable state and I could feel my eyes becoming heavy. “I taught him how to swim once.” I whispered, trying to force my eyes to stay open but finding it extremely difficult. “That sounds nice.” Soonyoung answered, his voice vibrating lowly through his body as he gently maneuvered me down onto the mattress. I hummed, not being able to keep my eyes open for a second longer. The smell of the sheets around me lulled me deeper into sleep and I finally let myself go.

It was pitch dark when I woke up from the deep sleep I had fallen into. My body was slightly cold, the night air seeming in through the cracked window creating goosebumps on the exposed skin of my arms. The room still smelt like pine and cotton, but not as strongly as before. Then a soft snore broke through the night air. I shifted slightly to look behind me. Soonyoung was laying comfortably on the bed beside me, his clothes still on and the sheet half on his body. His lips were slightly parted as he took deep but still soft breaths in his sleep. He looked so peaceful, his dark eyelashes resting against his slightly rosy cheeks. I debated on whether or not to get up and head back to my own room, but quickly decided against it when I heard the crack of thunder from outside, the rumbling making me jump slightly. “Y/n?” Soonyoung whispered, his voice raspy and lazy. I turned my head from the window to look over at him. He was half leaning back on his arms, his eyes squinted in the dark to find me. I giggled as I moved to get under the sheets, another gust of cold night air blowing into the room. “I thought that loud sound was you for a few…” The sleepy man mumbled as he laid back down, snuggling into the blanket slightly as he comfortably closed his eyes to go back to sleep. “Its just thundering.” I whispered, trying to get comfortable again. “I’m cold.” I stated, wiggling my legs slightly under the blanket to try and get some warmth from the friction.

At that Soonyoung reached out to pull me closer to him, pulling me only centimeters away from his face and then throwing his blanket over me as well. “This blanket is warmer.” He mumbled as he closed his eyes, letting his hand rest right beside mine on the mattress between us, not close enough to be holding hands, but close enough to be touching. Another crack of thunder rumbled through the sky outside, the flash of lightning illuminating the room for a split second. We were facing each other and as the seconds ticked by, I could hear his breaths get deeper as he fell back asleep. As I rested back into the mattress, I could feel Soonyoungs breaths fan over my face every few seconds. His lips where parted again, his cheek smushed against the pillow that supported his head. He looked absolutely adorable and it was hard to imagine this man was actually grown. As I let myself stare at him, me mumbled sleepily “It’s rude to stare.” I breathed out sharply in amusement as I averted my eyes from his face and muttered a meek sorry. Then his right hand circled around my shoulder and pulled me closer. “Go back to sleep, Y/n. You need to rest.” He babbled, his raspy voice almost incoherent as he slowly fell asleep. With the weight of his hand over my shoulder and the warmth from our body I quickly mirrored him and fell asleep as well, the comfort of another person keeping terrifying nightmares and horrible dreams away from my unconscious body.

a/n: thank you for reading! also thank you sooo much for waiting so long for updates...this au has been on hiatus for like 6 months and im so sorry to make you all wait but i have some good news!! for the two readers who have expressed explicit interest in this series, i have written the next 3 chapters to this story and will be updating this story a couple times next week hopefully! this is also not proofread so please excuse any typos! love ya!

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shirtrose7-blog · 6 years ago

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The Absolute Best New Restaurants of 2018

The opening of Frenchette marked the return of two of New York’s best-loved chefs. Photo: Hanna Pavlova

As always in this perpetually bustling, restaurant-mad town, 2018 produced a bumper crop of new and interesting places at which to sample things like spicy mi fen rice noodles from the kitchens of Hunan, say, or tandoori-sizzled lamb chops, or homestyle Persian banquets of roast lamb served with crunchy triangles of tahdig rice and great wheels of fresh-baked bread. Here you’ll find the annual, tortured, highly debatable ranking of our very favorite new restaurants, listed in order of general preference. And like we do every year, we offer the caveat that these are all winners, and that we’d be equally happy to return to any one of them at any time — depending on our mood, of course, and the state of our bank accounts.

1. Frenchette 241 W. Broadway, nr. White St.; 212-334-3883

Frenchette’s duck frites. Photo: Melissa Hom

Riad Nasr and Lee Hanson’s much-praised Tribeca brasserie isn’t the most ambitious new restaurant around town (yes, it’s been another banner season for expensive, high-minded tasting rooms), nor the most antically theatrical (thank you, Salt Bae), and their mentor, Keith McNally, would certainly have questions about a few of the aesthetic choices in the clamorous, sparely decorated dining rooms. But the return to the kitchen of these two great masters of the old French canon is certainly one of the most edifying comeback stories of this dining year, and for those of us who are fans of classic, chef-centric specialties like grainy, perfectly turned pork rillettes, or roast country chicken, or calves’ brains prepared in the Grenobloise style, so is the cooking, which more than in any new restaurant in the city this year combines the elevated qualities of first-class ingredients and age-old technique with the timeless, comforting pleasures of a good old-fashioned feed.

2. Atomix 104 E. 30th St., nr. Park Ave. S.; no phone; atomixnyc.com

So what separates Junghyun Park’s hyperpolished little establishment from the rabble of effete, high-end tasting rooms that continue to pop up relentlessly around the city? Let’s start with this talented chef’s particular mission, which is to introduce New Yorkers to the sophisticated wonders of high-end Korean cuisine beyond the familiar parade of noodles and barbecue, a seminar which includes informative cards accompanying each course, and a running dissertation with the waitstaff on the intricacies of, say, curing and fermentation. Then there’s the carefully articulated, generally delicious food itself, which, depending on when you drop by, might include candied cubes of wagyu sweetened in a variety of fruit juices, or tiny segments of duck breast that Park and his cooks sear, roast, then sear again, before garnishing them with an alluring substance called gochujang mole. Finally, there’s the modest, even neighborly bar upstairs, which might just serve the finest à la carte version of spicy Korean-style chicken wings in town.

3. Oxomoco 128 Greenpoint Ave., nr. Manhattan Ave., Greenpoint; 646-688-4180

In what’s arguably been the best year for new Brooklyn restaurants since the early pioneer days of Roberta’s out in Bushwick, Justin Bazdarich and his band of barbacoa savants have produced a casual Mexican joint that even the taco snobs at Michelin can love. The tequila and mezcal drinks are plentiful; the excellent moles, salsas, and soft, purple-hued masa tacos are all carefully crafted in-house; and during the course of the day at this sunny, L.A.-style establishment in Greenpoint, almost everything on the deep, deceptively sophisticated menu (half-chickens, charred vegetables of every kind, lamb and beefsteaks, the great brunch-time “pambazo” burger) gets thrown on the fire-belching grills at the back of the room. The stars of the show, however, are the tacos, which chef de cuisine and Empellon veteran Matt Conroy stuffs with all kinds of exotic combinations, including chunks of tempura shrimp and Thai basil, and a mouthwatering, slightly heretical version of al pastor tacos made with the usual sacred bits of pineapple mingled with chicken thighs instead of pork.

4. Sushi Noz 181 E. 78th St., nr. Third Ave.; 917-338-1792

It’s always been chic, in New York’s high-end sushi circles, to be able to trace your lineage back to the old masters in Tokyo, but few restaurants have ever managed this trick in quite such a theatrical way as this polished little atelier on the Upper East Side, where full kimonos are the uniforms worn by women on the waitstaff, and the hushed little rooms are constructed from woods like cedar and cypress fit together without nails in the ancient sukiya style. But what separates this pricey new omakase palace from the rest of the gilded herd is chef Nozomu Abe’s expertly presented menu, which in sourcing, execution, and traditional flair (cod milt soup, anyone?) is about as close as you’ll come to the real thing in this sushi-saturated town, short of hopping on a flight to Tokyo.

5. Saint Julivert Fisherie 264 Clinton St., at Verandah Pl., Cobble Hill; 347-987-3710

The announcement of a new Alex Raij and Eder Montero restaurant is always a happy occasion, but when the joy of seafood is the specific theme in these seafood-challenged times, it’s cause for special celebration. You’ll find all sorts of strange little wonders served up in this little railcar-size Cobble Hill dining room, including silvery anchovies plated with little moons of unmelted vanilla butter, bowls of risotto folded with chopped conch and smoked eel, and that ugly-delicious Catalan speciality, goose barnacles, served with proper ceremony in a fold of white linen. Die-hard beef lovers should call for the Prego sandwich, a kind of Portuguese steak-bomb, which you can get dressed with a mess of fat fried oysters for an extra fee.

6. Sofreh 75 St. Marks Ave., nr. Flatbush Ave., Prospect Heights; 646-340-0322

Persian cuisine is not something you tend to hear much about when nattering, food-obsessed New Yorkers get together, but at this convivial, stylish townhouse establishment just off Flatbush Avenue, the chef-owner, Nasim Alikhani, brings this venerable dining culture alive in a variety of inventive, satisfying ways. Pay attention to the rice (served in steamy, saffron-flavored platters, or in crunchy triangles called tahdig), and to the blizzard of small plates (the kofteh meatballs, the vegetable dips and spreads), all of which are designed to be consumed in a communal lather with oval slabs of fresh baked bread. And pay attention to anything involving the delicious, fresh strained yogurt, which is served as a drink (with mint and rose petals), as a garnish (with lamb shanks and kebabs), and, in the warmer months, as a luxurious dessert topped with spoonfuls of sugary marmalade.

7. Shabu Shabu Macoron 61 Delancey St., nr. Allen St.; 212-925-5220

Mako Okano’s impressive one-woman dissertation on the joys of the communal Japanese hotpot called shabu-shabu wins this year’s competition for the pound-for-pound best new restaurant in town for many self-evident reasons. The prices ($128 for seven courses, along with other tastes and morsels) are slightly higher than at your average shabu-shabu joint, it’s true, but you’re not going to find marbled slivers of wagyu or pork like this elsewhere on the hotpot circuit (not to mention uni served with homemade yuba on a spoon). And the combination of focus and intimacy makes a visit to the snug eight-seat operation down on Delancey Street feel less like a standard restaurant dinner than a private event cooked up by the chef at her dining counter at home.

8. Adda 31-31 Thomson Ave., nr. Van Dam St., Long Island City; 718-433-3888

Chintan Pandya, the chef at this bustling little Long Island City canteen, has cooked in grand kitchens all over the world, but according to the loquacious gentleman who brought us our tandoori grilled lamb chops one happy afternoon, he considers this casual little place with simmered goat brains on the menu and a metal shanty-style roof over the bar to be “his idea of the perfect restaurant.” After polishing off the tender double-cut chops and those brains (served with toasty buttered rolls for mopping up), as well as a variety of other home-style Indian delicacies (spicy, buttered chicken tikka, loose squares of paneer that Pandya and his cooks curdle in-house), and what is possibly the finest mango lassi in town, it’s easy to see why.

9. La Mercerie 52 Howard St., at Mercer St.; 212-852-9097

Like all great Parisian cafés, Marie-Aude Rose’s stylish little downtown dine-and-shop operation (it’s located in the front of a Soho boutique) has a little something for everyone — including, if you wish, bundles of fresh-cut flowers that you can order when you arrive for your lobster salad or bowl of chestnut velouté, and pick up after you’ve finished eating. Our favorite meal is breakfast, when the kitchen serves bowls of crème anglaise with slices of warm brioche and the sun slants into the room in a particularly Parisian way, but you can get a superior version of boeuf bourguignon starting at lunchtime, along with a fine selection of that durable Breton-style speciality, buckwheat crêpes, which the kitchen folds with creamed chicken, and serves, speckled with sugar and a squeeze of lemon, for dessert.

10. Gem 116 Forsyth St., nr. Delancey St.; 917-473-3223

Gem’s sunchokes. Photo: Liz Clayman

There are many things to like about Flynn McGarry’s official New York restaurant debut, from the intimate tasting-room layout (diners sit at small tables instead of the usual formal bar), to the laid-back L.A.-style décor and vibe (flickering low-lit candles, a woodsy color scheme). But mostly what we like is the cooking itself, which veers from a kind of polished Japanese influence (local raw clams over ice, uni sprinkled with pumpkin seeds, diver scallops wrapped in shiso leaf) to some of the best elevated vegetable creations we tasted all year (truffle-rolled carrots, ash-grilled sunchokes, slow-roasted pumpkin spooned with melted Gruyère), all of which make it difficult to believe that this wunderkind cook just turned 20.

11. Momofuku Ko 8 Extra Pl., nr. 1st St.; 212-203-8095

The Momofuku dining empire is an increasingly sprawling, populist business these days, but if you want a window into that restless sense of high/low innovation that has characterized David Chang’s restaurants from the very beginning, this modest à la carte operation, which opened earlier this year off the tasting room down on the Bowery, is a good place to start. You’ll find crêpes made of sourdough on the ever-changing handwritten menu, and strange late-night snacks rendered in fancy, almost-gourmet fashion, like the famous fried chicken served cold and by the piece, like leftover morsels straight out of the fridge. There are candied char siu-like strips of steak loin, too, and scoops of ice cream folded with buckwheat, although the dish we still can’t get out of our heads is ye olde duck-and-foie-gras pie, which is encased in a shiny, Victorian-era crust, and rich enough for a party of ten.

12. Hunan Slurp 112 First Ave., nr. 7th St.; 646-585-9585

The specialty of this accomplished little East Village venture is the delicate rice noodle called mi fen, favored in the southern parts of China, which chef-owner Chao Wang had presumably been pining for during his time subsisting on containers of carryout food in New York. There are ten varieties on the menu (topped with nourishing combinations like the Three Delicacies’ oyster mushroom, Berkshire pork, and an egg roll; carefully arranged fans of tofu and sliced beef; and numerous kinds of barnyard pork), although many of the other, rarely-seen non-noodle Hunan specialties (helpings of fish served in a mingling of milky pork and fish bone broths, the offal lovers’ Hunan charcuterie) are worth a special trip.

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Source: http://www.grubstreet.com/bestofnewyork/absolute-best-new-restaurants-of-2018.html

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