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aerodaltonimperial · 1 year

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variations on a theme

Rating: T

Pairing: Hookhausen

Content warning: blood

“I’m sorry,” the nurse says. She looks it, too, and that’s the worst part. “We don’t see this very often.”

“It’s curable, right?” his dad replies. He’s already in problem-solving mode, typing things on his phone, finding ideas, making lists; he’s probably already got a plan. Knowing him, Hook’s probably already on the list for some expensive, experimental drug therapy. “It’s not fatal, right?”

The nurse doesn’t answer, but that’s answer enough. She purses her mouth, and looks away, and so does Hook. He stares out the window at the rain droplets congregating on the glass until the compulsion in his lungs is too overwhelming to ignore. Coughing always hurts when it’s so dry, when the hacking is so brittle, but this is something else. Hook presses a hand to his mouth and squeezes his eyes through the shaking, until the impulse fades.

When he pulls his hand away, there’s a crumpled flower petal in his hand, the edges smeared with red.

“There’s something we can do, right?” his dad asks. His voice is lower, his tone sharper.

“I’m sorry,” the nurse says. “He has to figure out who it is.”

That’s the rub, isn’t it? Hook presses his forehead against the car window as they drive. Beside him in the backseat, his dad is furiously searching on his phone. He’s trying to find a way around it. He’s trying to find a solution. But there isn’t a solution besides the obvious one; Hook has to figure out who it is, or else the roots will carve their place in his lungs and spread to his heart. The organ will be compost for the flowers, food for the blooms. Fitting, maybe—everyone always said Hook never paid attention to anyone else, and now he’s paying for it. He didn’t pay attention, and now it’ll kill him.

Ironic, that.

“You need to ask around,” his dad says, without looking at him. Hook thinks it’s self-preservation. If his dad can’t see the problem, then it doesn’t exist. And right now, Hook is the problem. “See if you can figure out who it is.”

“There’s no one,” Hook mumbles. His breath fogs the glass, a lopsided circle.

His dad taps the window, a signal to the driver. “You aren’t dating anyone? No flings, no one-night stands who could have latched on?”

“No.” When would he have time for that? “No one.”

“Ask around,” his dad says again, but he quiets when Hook starts coughing again. After, when Hook holds the crimson-tinged petals in his palm, his dad looks anywhere except his hands.

Hook isn’t going to ask people. He can’t think of a more embarrassing thing to have to do than work his way systemically through the only group of people he sees often enough for the emotion to stick and ask if any of them they are in love with him. He ignores it. Keeps wrestling. Bangs a few more heads in, hauls the FTW belt with him out of every ring. But after a week of miserably hacking up petals, staining the hotel pillowcases red, he begins to rethink it. Maybe the answer is obvious. Maybe he won’t have to ask many people.

The problem is, he’s got no one in his corner to approach first. And he doesn’t think the answer is obvious at all.

“Are you in love with me?” he asks, and immediately wants to fucking die.

Jack stares at him, eyebrows high. “What?”

“You heard me,” Hook mumbles. He sinks down into his sweatshirt hood, tugs the cords closed. Tries to block out the roar of humiliation that has coated his body and nestled within.

“No,” Jack says. And then: “Dude. What?”

“Nevermind.” Hook’s face is on fire. “I just…had to ask.”

“You think that’s why we aren’t partners anymore?” Jack asks, and laughs, like it’s the dumbest theory in existence. Like it’s ridiculous.

“No,” Hook grumbles, except he had, and now he’s pissed.

He decides not to ask any more people; dying can’t be any worse than this.

He’s forced to eat his words a week later. A new arena, a new nondescript hotel, a new toilet to kneel over as his lungs heave. The compulsion to cough is lasting longer and longer; Hook thinks he can feel the roots burrowing into the soft tissue of his lung, corroding the muscles. He chokes on a petal that doesn’t get all the way up and has to drag it out with one finger, triggering his gag reflex. His eyes prick with hot tears. The coughing doesn’t stop until he’s out of breath, propped up on the toilet seat with his elbow. He sucks in a ragged breath as the tears drip down onto the water and the petals and the blood.

Shit. Shit.

He’s going to wither away, hacking himself to death, because someone is in love with him—big, huge, soul-altering, life-changing love with him—and Hook’s too fucking self-absorbed to figure out who it is. Shouldn’t these things be obvious? Shouldn’t he just know?

He presses a hand to his face, drags it down through the salt tracks. Fuck.

He ends up spending the night like that, curled miserably around the toilet. The end, it seems, might come sooner than he anticipated.

“Mexico,” his dad says, without greeting, when Hook next picks up the phone. “There’s a trial going on in Mexico we can get you in. They go in surgically, take everything out.”

“Won’t it just come back?” Hook asks. The roots tighten around his lungs in response, like an affirmation.

“Buys you time,” his dad snaps. He lashes out when he’s afraid. Hook understands, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do about it. “Time to figure out who it is. Haven’t you gone through options yet?”

Hook has, in his head.

His dad seems to figure this out, like usual. “Write them down. Now. Tonight.”

So Hook does. He tries to figure it out. He makes a list. He writes down every person who has interacted with him in the past two months and begins crossing them out, one by one. Some he knows are wrong, and asks via text anyway just to have confirmation: Bowens, Dante. Some he can’t even take seriously: Stokely, Moriarty, Big Bill. But as he runs his pen tip through them, he realizes he’s quickly burning through his options.

The flowers just started. It has to be someone in the past two months…right?

Hopelessness spreads through Hook’s chest as he stares at the names. He can’t possibly go back further than two months and get everyone. He doesn’t have the time. And as though the flowers are dead-set on reminding him of this, the coughing starts up. Hook curls up into a ball, hands cupped beneath his mouth. He catches the petals, but the blood runs rivulets down his wrists, his forearms; it pools on the desk, a damning and ever-widening stain.

He’s dizzy when the spell finally ends. He sags onto the wood and gets his sleeve in the red, doesn’t even care. He’s a mess.

Correction: he’s dying.

Hook drags his palm across his chin, skin coming away wet, and can’t think of a single thing to do about it.

A week later, as he’s hacking up pieces of leaves along with the petals in bed, unable to even move himself to the bathroom, his mind reaches wide for anything else to latch onto. He can’t focus on the pain burning through his chest, or the sharp pangs where the roots have gone deep into the surrounding muscles; he’ll lose it if he focuses on each shuddering heave, on how much blood comes up with all the offending flowers. He throws his awareness back into memories, because at least there, he can find peace.

He must fall asleep like that, eventually—fitful. Poor. He’s back in the ring, staring out at the Las Vegas crowd. His arm is held up in the air. He feels good, really good. He remembers how good this one felt, how right. How he crashed into the shore line and wanted more.

Hook wakes with tears on his face, and an ache in his chest that has nothing to do with the vines slowly choking the life out of him.

He wishes he could have had that.

He wishes things were different.

Hook doesn’t usually get what he really wants.

“I’ve booked our flights to Mexico City,” his dad says.

Hook knows it won’t work, but he doesn’t say anything. He just nods, and moves the eggs on his plate around with his fork. Food just tastes like copper and roses now, anyway.

He’s been able to keep it all under wraps, all things considered. The worst of the assault usually hits in the middle of the night, and while his eyes sport the bruising of insomnia, no one else has figured it out yet. Until he’s in the ring, gliding out of the way of Matt Hardy’s arm and doesn’t quite go as far as he needs to. Until the impact knocks the wind out of his chest, and then, the compulsion slots itself into the hollow space created. Until he’s kneeling by the side of the ring with both hands curled around the ropes, spitting petals and thorns and blood onto the apron.

“Holy shit,” Ethan Page whispers. He backs up, hands high, as though it’s contagious. As though touching the petals will lead to an outbreak, a contagion explosion. As though Hook has any choice in coughing them up in rough, dry heaves.

His head spins. His thoughts blur. His eyes burn.

Someone helps him out of the ring. He’s still coughing, still convulsing; each heave now ripples through his whole body. He wonders, idly, wildly, if the roots have curled into his arms and down into his intestines. Maybe they’ve infiltrated his entire nervous system. Maybe he’s not really himself anymore, merely the host to an invasive, parasitic infection, deceptively lovely.

The coughing fit doesn’t stop. It doesn't end. Hook collapses against a shockingly cold wall and keeps bringing up more, more, more. This is it, right? The end. He can’t breathe. He can’t stop. He’s going to hack up his lungs, and the only thing that will remain will be the outline of where the muscles used to be, a skeleton ribcage of roots and vines.

Hands press against his face, warm. “Hook, Hook—”

Hook knows that voice. He tries to crack one eye open. If this face is the last one he sees, he thinks maybe it will be alright. “D.”

“What’s happening?” Panic. That’s panic in his tone. “Hook, what’s happening?”

Danhausen doesn’t twist away when Hook coughs up a mouthful of petals onto his lap. He doesn’t so much as flinch when the blood splatters along with everything else.

“I’m sorry,” Hook whispers. He doesn’t know why he’s apologizing, other than for the months of silence. The pull-away. The abandonment. His own emotions, really; his own fear, shame, embarrassment. He reaches for Danhausen’s face and can’t wholly control his hand. His fingers slide down the man’s cheek, leaving red trails in their wake. “I wish it were you.”

“Hook,” Danhausen says, rushed and terrified. “It was always Hook. It was you the whole time.”

Pressure against Hook’s cheek: Danhausen’s mouth, the ghost of a kiss, a gasp and a sob at the same time. Hook’s whole body shudders. His vision goes red, then black.

The pain in his lungs blossoms bright enough to swallow the sun, and then abruptly disappears.

He’s grateful for his lungs, now; he doesn’t take them for granted anymore, the way they expand and contract, the way they press up against his ribs, the way he can fill them to the point of pain. He does that, too, every fifth breath or so, just to prove he still can.

Hook wakes slowly. He fills his lungs, listens to the steady beat of his heart. He stares at the outline of the morning sun around the hotel curtains and breathes, in and out. The arm looped around his middle tightens ever so slightly.

“Morning,” he whispers, because he’s still got the oxygen within, because he can. Hook thinks he’s going to do a lot of things just because he can.

A kiss on his shoulder blade. “Morning.”

The world is brighter without the roots embedded in his core.

“Is it time to get up?” Danhausen murmurs. His mouth remains against Hook’s bare skin, trailing higher.

“No,” Hook says. “It’s still early.”

Danhausen hums an affirmation. “Good.” The hand on Hook’s stomach slips lower. He shifts, taking Hook with him until Hook is on his back against the pillows. Danhausen’s mouth skims across Hook’s jaw. “Danhausen has plans.”

“Good,” Hook sighs.

Perhaps one day, he will be grateful for the blooms the same way he appreciates his lungs. One day, he may accept how they helped him. It won’t happen overnight; he may not keep flowers for awhile. He may not be able to abide the clouds of floral perfume at the department stores. But if his lungs catch and stutter, if his breath comes quicker and faster, if the inhales grow ragged and hoarse, at least now it’s for a far lovelier reason, the kind that touches him with reverence and whispers adoration against the salt on his skin.

#wrestleprompts #hookhausen #i asked the group chat if this pairing needed more hanahaki #and the resounding answer was YES OF COURSE #so here you go #a variation on a theme

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dreamxeyes · 4 years

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Robotnik/Stobotnik Playlist

1. Robotique Majestique - Ghostland Observatory

Come on, evil machine Come on, work with me Come on, evil machine Come on, set me free

2. The Man Machine - Kraftwerk

Man Machine Pseudo-human being Man Machine Superhuman being

3. I Sing Electric - Joy Electric

They bend back to tax, to cream me Here I come, the weak receive me I sing electric To the Godly collective I sing electric

4. Bot - Deadmau5

bot.... bot....bot....

5. Technologic - Daft Punk

Buy it, use it, break it, fix it Trash it, change it, mail – upgrade it Charge it, point it, zoom it, press it Snap it, work it, quick – erase it

6. Robots FTW - Aperture Science Psychoacoustics Laboratory

(Instrumental only)

7. Stupid MF - Mindless Self Indulgence (Explicit)

Yo they think you're dumb; I think you're smart No, wait, I lied; I think you're dumb Yo they think you're dumb; I think you're smart No, wait, I lied; I think you're dumb Get it? Get it? Get it? You just don't get it! Get it? Get it? Get it?

8. Magic Spells - Crystal Castles

Don't worry, Dear Pamela I'll do my scientific best to command your fleet

9. Who Are Friends? - Joy Electric

I make a sound In my self contained hospital Fend off the stares In my glass walled cubic Pins drop for noise Am I faint or just paranoid? Caught in the clutch of the poisonous Who are friends?

10. Infatuation (With Your Gyration) - The Magnetic Fields

Infatuation With your gyration That's my fixation, I'm (infatuated with you) Infatuated with you (infatuated with)

11. Sadist - Crystal Castles

Keep them on this course Graceful without remorse Paresthesia, para It's fine You're fine You'll be fine, you'll be fine Life without conscience The disdain is just consequence

12. Destroy Everything You Touch - Ladytron

Everything you touch you don't feel Do not know what you steal Shakes your hand Takes your gun Walks you out of the sun What you touch you don't feel Do not know what you steal Destroy everything you touch today Please destroy me this way

13. Infra-Red - Placebo

One more thing before we start the final face off I will be the one to watch you fall So I came down to crash and burn your beggar's banquet Someone call the ambulance, there's gonna be an accident I'm coming up on infra-red There is no running that can hide you 'Cause I can see in the dark

14. The Globalist - Muse

You were never truly loved You have only been betrayed You were never truly nurtured By churches of the state You were left unprotected To these wild and fragile lands But you can rise up like a god Arm yourself You can be strong You can build a nuclear power Transform the earth to your desire Free your mind from false beliefs You can be the commander in chief You can hide your true motives To dismantle and destroy

15. Survival - Muse

Race, life's a race And I am gonna win Yes, I am gonna win And I'll light the fuse And I'll never lose And I choose to survive (So I told you) Whatever it takes You won't pull ahead I'll keep up the pace And I'll reveal my strength To the whole human race

16. (We Are) Taking Over - Joy Electric

I want it all but you won't hear me or catch my fall I started pure, then you decieved me Now I own you Back off, I've claimed the rule

17. Mushroom Compost - µ-Ziq

(instrumental only)

18. Live Alone - Franz Ferdinand

I want to live alone Because the greatest love Is always ruined by the bickering The argument of living I want to live alone I could be happy on my own Live the rest of my life With the vaguest of feeling Wherever you are Whoever is there You know that I'll be here, I'll be here Wishing I could be there

AVAILABLE ON SPOTIFY AS WELL

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fckplastic · 5 years

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Step One: Some Changes Here And There

DISCLAIMER: I am not a true zero-waster. I still occasionally order delivery (curse you Seamless!!!) and buy packaged chicken and fish (and we know meat is a HUGE environmental offender).

In fact, I only decided to start transitioning to the zero-waste lifestyle about a month ago, so whatever changes I’ve made are pretty minor and few. However, it’s always good to start somewhere, right?

Here are some of the changes I’ve already implemented in my daily life.

1) Always carry around a glass jar.

My go-to jar is actually an empty Tostitos dip jar that has gotten me many confused looks from friends and co-workers. However, this little jar - and all glass jars - can do so much! I’ve used it for overnight oats, granola, hot tea, soup, kimchi, and so much more.

(THE iconic kimchi moment)

You can even bring your breakfast or lunch in a glass jar since they’re microwaveable (make sure to remove metal lids and be careful when removing hot items from the microwave!).

2) Always carry around metal utensils.

I know that reusable bamboo utensils are all the rage now, but as a Korean-American, I can’t help but gravitate towards metal utensils, including my metal spoon, fork, two straws (in case someone else needs one), and chopsticks (my personal belief is that Korean metal chopsticks help you build character).

I picked up this “Little Prince” set while I was still living in Korea, and I have to admit that the themed nature of it really encourages me to carry it around with me everywhere. (Plus I can fit so much in there!)

(The outside of the pouch - isn’t it so cute??!)

3) Grab a crap-ton of produce bags from Trader Joe’s.

Despite the plethora of plastic packaging at Trader Joe’s, I find myself going pretty often. Before you judge, here’s the reason why:

Meet Mocha, my little poodle-mutt fur demon.

This might seem a bit silly (and cheap), but I always grab a ton of produce bags from Trader Joe’s every time I go to use as... poop bags! Their produce bags are not only the perfect size to scoop up Mocha poop (sorry not sorry for being gross), but they’re also biodegradable and compostable, which will allow for her poo to biodegrade waaaay faster than if I used a regular plastic poop bag.

Thanks for the help, Trader Joe’s!

4) Cut out unnecessary purchases.

(Accurate representation of me shopping)

Okay, so admittedly I started doing this more for financial reasons than environmental reasons. But it works! Whenever I go shopping, I always stop and take a few minutes to think about whether I really need that new sushi-shaped eraser or adorable Pikachu plushie. My go-to method is to actually hold the item in my hand and ask myself, “Does this spark joy?” And guess what? 99.999999% of the time, I realize that I don’t actually need whatever item I have in my hand, even if I want to think that I do (self-restraint ftw?).

(Marie Kondo would be fuckin’ proud.)

By cutting down my purchases to only items that I absolutely need (groceries, medication, etc), I have really cut down on my own waste, since everything seems to be covered in plastic packaging these days. Hey, even the EPA says that reducing is the most important “R” of the three “R’s” so it must mean something.

5) Be HONEST with myself.

Like most people before they try out a similar lifestyle, I thought that I didn’t generate a lot of waste. After just a week after deciding to go zero-waste, however, I realized just how wrong I was. The cotton pads I used every day? ?One use, and they went straight in the trash. A new Swell water bottle that I picked up to cut out plastic water bottles? It came in a little plastic bag. Even the lip balm I use? Once I finish using it, I’ll have the empty plastic tube leftover.

Why does everything have to come in unnecessary packaging?!!?!?

Admittedly, I don’t have actual numbers for how much trash I generate every day, or even every week (I am far too lazy to calculate that). However, I know that there’s so much packaging I can cut out of my life that I never accounted for before. After taking a step back and really examining my lifestyle, everyday products, beauty regimes, and other daily processes, I can figure out where I can reduce packaging, and what I can actually reuse.

For example, I recently purchased reusable cotton pads that I am using and loving in my everyday beauty routine, and I am planning to switch over to shampoo and conditioner bars instead of constantly having to buy plastic bottles of hair products. The plastic bag that came with my Swell bottle is going to be used as a Mocha poop bag (not the most green use of it, but it’s better than using another plastic bag unnecessarily).

Even my lip balm tube, once empty, will be reused! One of my best friends has her own beehives (I know, whaaaaaaat?), and I asked her to harvest me some beeswax so I can DIY some homemade lip balm (anyone have a favorite recipe?), which I will then pour into my lip balm tube. Reuse when you can!

These are all obviously baby steps, but everyone’s gotta start somewhere. What are some zero-waste steps you’ve made in your life?

#zero waste #package free #fck plastic #no plastic #environment #environmentalism #save the earth #green life #go green #climate change #environmentalist #tree hugger

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brittainytaylor · 7 years

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Whenever J's on the road, I make pancakes. 🥞 😂. I think the first few days he's gone I get the Home Alone instant feeling and binge read, watch, reflect, and bake. If he's given me anything these last few years, it's interest in the growth in the times apart so the times together have that much more depth. Mornings alone making my special batch of GF/DF/organic blueberry protein pancakes, brewing my special almond mylk cinnamon coffee with a hint of vanilla and a dash (ok, a little more than a dash) of Splenda, putting together my day while the sunrises and choosing my steps from work to play to reflective moments, gives me clarity when J comes back that I choose to partner his footsteps. When you enter a relationship, sometimes the all the shared moments feel like second breath, and like breath we don't take a second thought. Only, it's not as simple as breath, or as instinctual as subconscious feelings. It takes a conscious decision everyday, a continual effort to mix and add and tweak and perfect. As with one life and it's importance with creating moments of joy, two lives intertwined has its own recipe for happiness, and even more complicated is the perfect pairing of each other's ingredients, and there's no measuring cup for that. Our taste buds for adventure, romance, religion, life experience are all mixed up, as it continues to be. It's messy, like pancakes. But it's as organic as the fresh blueberries, and moments like this morning I reflect with my perfect view how thankful I am that no matter how rough the recipe looks, I've created and chose it at every moment. I don't have to make a cookbook for others, I just have to keep the log for us, and our sweet family recipes for moments together. Yes, I just used my breakfast as a metaphor for my relationship. By the way, it was bomb. @vega_team protein almond meal with organic blueberry lightly composted FTW. Happy Sunday.

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michaelfallcon · 5 years

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Build-Outs Of Summer: Roots Coffeehouse In Ft Worth, TX

Fort Worth, Texas goes by many names: F-Dub, Panther City, Cowtown (or if you live on the Dallas side of the Metroplex, you may opt for the more pejorative Fart Worth, because it’s a town of cows), but no sobriquet is more earned than Funky Town. When outsiders think of Fort Worth, the first thing that comes to mind is the Stockyards or perhaps the iconic honky tonk Billy Bob’s, but there’s an undercurrent of the weird and wacky thanks to the thriving music, arts, and culinary scenes. A blend of yeet and yee-haw, Forth Worth is a place where independent spirits with big ideas have enough room to execute them; it’s like Austin used to be before all the corporations bought the city, but with waaaaaay more cows.

This sort of bootstrapping is of course a boon for coffee shops, just ask Roots Coffeehouse and owner Janice Townsend. After spending a decade-plus in the DFW coffee scene with the original Roots in the FTW suburb of North Richland Hills, Townsend is opening a second location/coworking space, this time in the heart of the city she calls home. With the help of her husband Matt, Townsend has spent the last three years ripping a 5,000-square-foot building down to the studs to rebuild it into the brand new Roots Coffeehouse. It’s the sort of pick-up-a-hammer-and-make-a-name-for-yourself story that Fort Worth should be known for, not just—and I can’t stress this enough—all those very many cows. Funky Town is about to get a little bit funkier thanks to the new Roots Coffeehouse.

The 2019 Build-Outs of Summer is presented by Pacific Barista Series, notNeutral, KeepCup, and Mill City Roasters.

As told to Sprudge by Janice Townsend.

For those who aren’t familiar, will you tell us about your company?

Roots is a community coffeehouse that has been serving the greater Fort Worth area for 10+ years. Our company values are building community, creating an environment of hospitality, and crafting excellence. We believe in slow, sustainable growth and supporting our community by buying local. We’re known for our annual Buy Local Event (a farmer’s market style event where we bring in the best local makers, artists, and food businesses), our kind baristas, and our excellent coffee.

Can you tell us a bit about the new space?

The new space has been a dream for over three years—a second location for Roots in the city we live in, more specifically, the Near Southside of Fort Worth. The Near Southside is an area devoted to the funky, independent businesses that make Fort Worth what it is. After paying rent for over 10 years, we decided it was time to build something from the ground up. We were lucky enough to find a piece of land in an area called South Main Village (about a mile south of downtown) and we purchased it at the end of 2016. Working with local architects and our builder, we came up with a plan to combine the second location of Roots with a coworking concept called Criterion Coworking through an open-concept, funky, and modern building that was filled with elements of light, natural materials, and green features. The building is unique, split level (the coffeehouse is 2′ lower than the rest of the building and matches the incline of the street), and absolutely beautiful. Coworking members will have access to the entire space, which includes a rooftop deck with views of downtown Fort Worth. Coffee shop visitors will enjoy a beautiful open space with 14′ ceilings, exposed Douglas Fir beams, tons of real plants, and a lovely patio facing Bryan Ave.

What’s your approach to coffee?

We, as baristas, are the final step of the coffee’s journey and we want to honor the entire process by connecting customers to something they will truly enjoy, prepared with excellence. We know that some people want an espresso, some want a flavored latte, and some want a great cup of drip. With that in mind, our entire menu is crafted with the customer in mind—if it’s a straight espresso, we are going to prepare it with care, if it’s a flavored latte it’s going to have house-made syrups and local ingredients, if it’s a drip coffee it’s going to be dialed in to bring out the sweetness in each roast. We work with a great local roaster out of Dallas called Novel Coffee Roasters and with the great service and coffee they provide, we’re able to offer amazing coffee to every single type of customer that comes through our doors.

Any machines, coffees, special equipment lined up?

Yes! We’re so excited to have purchased a two-group Slayer LP as our primary machine for the new shop, along with a Mahlkönig PEAK grinder and an EK-43.

How is your project considering sustainability?

In so many ways. Because we’ll own the building, we were able to invest in features that will lend themselves to sustainability in the long run—for example, a really excellent, high-efficiency HVAC system combined with foam insulation and low-E windows. Additionally, the whole building will use LED lights and operate on a timer with dimmers and daylight harvesting. We have also integrated re-purposed and recycled materials where we can—salvaged countertops and shelving from the old antique store that used to be across the street, acoustic panels made from recycled water bottles, and more. At Roots, we also place a high value on sustainability by buying local, recycling, and reducing our single-use items wherever we can (check out our blog post on Eco-Cups). At the Fort Worth location of Roots, we also hope to partner with local composting company Cowboy Compost to make sure our coffee grounds and food waste don’t end up in landfills.

What’s your hopeful target opening date/month?

Fall/Winter 2019

Are you working with craftspeople, architects, and/or creatives that you’d like to mention?

Matt Townsend of Freeform Made is my husband, co-owner of the building, and has done a huge amount of work on this project—from hand-making the complex coffee bar in the shop to making the stairs in the coworking space to being on site every single day. Chris Raines from Archistructure has also put in a ton of extra work and time making this project work and helping us make changes that will benefit the project in the long run.

Thank you!

Roots Coffeehouse is located at 400 Bryan Ave, Fort Worth. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

The Build-Outs Of Summer is an annual series on Sprudge. Live the thrill of the build all summer long in our Build-Outs feature hub.

The post Build-Outs Of Summer: Roots Coffeehouse In Ft Worth, TX appeared first on Sprudge.

Build-Outs Of Summer: Roots Coffeehouse In Ft Worth, TX published first on https://medium.com/@LinLinCoffee

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shebreathesslowly · 5 years

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Build-Outs Of Summer: Roots Coffeehouse In Ft Worth, TX

The 2019 Build-Outs of Summer is presented by Pacific Barista Series, notNeutral, KeepCup, and Mill City Roasters.

As told to Sprudge by Janice Townsend.

For those who aren’t familiar, will you tell us about your company?

Can you tell us a bit about the new space?

What’s your approach to coffee?

Any machines, coffees, special equipment lined up?

Yes! We’re so excited to have purchased a two-group Slayer LP as our primary machine for the new shop, along with a Mahlkönig PEAK grinder and an EK-43.

How is your project considering sustainability?

What’s your hopeful target opening date/month?

Fall/Winter 2019

Are you working with craftspeople, architects, and/or creatives that you’d like to mention?

Thank you!

Roots Coffeehouse is located at 400 Bryan Ave, Fort Worth. Visit their official website and follow them on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

The Build-Outs Of Summer is an annual series on Sprudge. Live the thrill of the build all summer long in our Build-Outs feature hub.

The post Build-Outs Of Summer: Roots Coffeehouse In Ft Worth, TX appeared first on Sprudge.

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