#the only people I see at my park are doing handstand on bars or whatever high level jedi sh*t

[collophora]

"Let's fix this drawing" *redraw the whole thing*

[vetlan]

Summary: Nothing says "Impromptu Darkwing Duck Reunion" like being arrested for something a group of lookalikes did, and then being bailed out by a… Darkwing Duck cosplayer? Fanboy? Well, there were odder things that happened in relation to that cursed show.

Characters Present: Megavolt ( Actor ), Quackerjack ( Actor ), Liquidator ( Actor ), Bushroot ( Actor ), Darkwing Duck ( Drake Mallard )

Notes: The Actors are named after the original Voice Actors! Also this isn’t meant to make much sense, I just sat down today and chose violence, and by violence I meant a “short” humor fic based on the idea of the old actors seeing their villain alter-egos on the news. Serisouly how did this turn into writing almost 5k words in one day...

---

Dan Rattus-Sphynx was having a bad day, but not a terrible one. He was stuck in traffic on his way home after a long day at work, thinking on the cold tv-dinner he'd be indulging in while wondering what was causing the hold up -- unfortunately, if he'd been listening to the news on the radio, he would've been tipped off to the one fact that was about to turn his bad day into a terrible one: the old cast of Darkwing Duck was to be brought in for questioning. After Jim Starling's little explosive breakdown, when mirror-perfect images of the old actors started looting and terrorizing the city, the mayor wanted to take no chances.

And maybe then he wouldn't have laughed and asked the cops if they were a fan of his work as Megavolt -- he was pretty sure now, sitting in his cell, that they took that the wrong way.

He was the first to be apprehended.

Next came Michael Peckbell, once known as the actor behind Quackerjack, who was embarrassingly enough, arrested in a clown costume. Dan genuinely tried to hide his snickering as the old clown jingled miserably into the cell, done arguing for his innocence. It is only after he threw a dirty look at Dan that he recognized who he was sharing a cell with, and his annoyance turned to recognition and then confusion, head tilting to the side and making his hat jingle.

"Wait, why are you here?"

"Same reason you are, I guess… There's a warrant for our arrest because some lookalikes decided to rob banks while cosplaying as our old Darkwing Duck roles."

"No, seriously, Dan, why are we here? I was at a brat's blasted birthday party when these BRUTES went and tackled me!" Hands on his hips, Michael didn't look particularly amused as he tapped his foot, and Dan tried his best not to get short with the ex-actor turned party clown.

"Hey, I am serious! It's all they're showing on the news, I got taken while driving home! Wait, shh, do you hear that--" "Oh no, you're not shutting me up--" "I'm serious serious Mike, listen!"

Holding the duck's beak shut, which earned him another dirty look, Dan shuffled them closer to the holding bars so that they could listen to the news from the dingy little tv at the start of the holding cells corridor. Seriously, couldn't they turn the volume up a little? Luckily, as if hearing his silent wish, they do turn the sound up.

"... we interrupt this segment to bring an update on the current string of robberies and break-ins that have been plaguing St. Canard to inform that massive plant growths are starting to block off city exits, we strongly recommend that you resist fleeing the city and instead head home where it is safest -- ah, I am now getting reports of streets being flooded! Again, stay indoors and do not head out until further instructions! Your city's law enforcement is currently working with Darkwing Duck to apprehend the criminals behind this!"

"Oh quack, actual super villains, we're doomed!" A wailing voice can be heard from the front of the police station, paired with a stern: "GET IT TOGETHER, they have Darkwing Duck on the case!" The commotion paired well with the confused and genuinely taken aback look Dan and Mike shared.

"Drkwng dck?!" Mike tries to get through his beak, then realizing Dan was still holding it shut and slapping the hand away. Probably for the best right there, as that exclamation would've been much louder otherwise. "Has the world gone cuckoo? He's fiction! We're fiction! Well, not us, we're not fiction, but the characters we played! They can't be serious, this why we're here? Hah! Give me a break!" The party clown jumps on the cell bars, shaking the door and making a ruckus, refusing to believe a single thing he's heard: "Ha! Ha! Ha! Very funny, now let us out!" Each 'laugh' is punctuated by a vigorous shake and increased irritation, visibly huffing from anger from his beak… and absolutely not helping their case. One policeman dared peek over their way, and he squealed!

(Jeez, what is it with clowns and short tempters?)

"Would you cut that out? You look deranged! Is this what you do at birthday parties?" With a sharp tug at the back of the collar, Dan manages to pry his ex-co-star from the bars, who seemingly immediately deflates and jingles to one of the benches, sitting with his elbows on his knees and his cheeks in his hands, absolutely pouting. "I'm not any happier about this than you are, you know! But it makes sense! Almost! It explains why we couldn't get any work done at the office today, our system kept going down like someone was messing with it!" That earns him a scoff from his current cell companion, and Dan can't help but throw a look in the clown's direction. "What?"

"You, work in an office?" The question can come across as derogative, but there's genuine curiosity there. "I thought you were big into the acting thing, had your big break and everything as a villain or something." A pause. "Well, bigger villain than before."

There Dan pauses, brings up an index finger as if he's going to make a point, then just sighs and practically collapses into a slouch. It has been a while since the last Darkwing Duck meet-up, huh? No wonder Mike was so out of the loop.

"Yes, well, I gave it up. Want to hear a secret?" An earnest jingly nod is his reply. "I was asked to return for the Darkwing Duck remake… reboot… whatever movie they were making, but I just said no. I feel like I got typecast into the 'weasely evil rat' archetype, you know? After a while, I just started to wonder if people were laughing with me or at me. At least you made it work out somehow."

"That's exactly my deal! People kept making me into the laughing stock so I figured I might as well be an actual clown and beat them to the punch. The brats are annoying, but it beats the circus I was at before the show. Keeps me from getting rusty, even if I'm just going through a checklist of party-tricks at this point." From his pout, Mike perks up, banging his fist on the bench to his side before standing up again, seemingly bracing himself for -- ah, he twirls into a handstand, and Dan claps in genuine amazement.

"Wow, you still got it!"

"Eh, it's nothing. Unlike you guys, I had to work with Jim directly, by his rules. No doubles allowed, or I was a puffy-tailed coward. Quackerjack had no real special effects, remember? Just toys and acrobatics to use against Darkwing Duck." He could do it, but admittedly his endurance wasn't what it used to be. Still, to be a bit of a show-off, Mike stays like that for another minute before twirling right side up, trying to shake off the dizziness that came up with it -- only to stumble and be steadied by Dan when the lights in the entire station flicker and a distant rumble shakes the entire street, and suddenly they remember their current predicament. Yeap. Whatever was going on was very real. 

"Hey, cut that out!" Someone calls from the front of the police station, and Dan tries his best not to sound absolutely peeved off when he answers back. "It's not me, you bumbling meatheads!" He genuinely tried.

The silence after that is frustrating and uncomfortable. Meeting up was nice and all, but no one was talking to them, they didn't know if their friends and family were safe, and apparently, the city really was being overtaken by super-powered criminals based on characters they played in a kid's tv-show. So Dan sat on the bench, momentarily stunned by that fact even though he was the one trying to convince Mike it made sense, all the while the clown decided to tire himself out further by continuously jumping up to try and look out the tiny cell window they had.

"Would you STOP your jingling about!?"

The only answer Dan got was a raspberry blown in his direction. Real mature.

---

Tino had made his mind up the moment he caught sight of himself on live tv robbing a bank: he was turning himself in. For one thing, it would immediately prove his innocence because he couldn't be robbing banks if he was in captivity, and then he'd hopefully be safe from these super-powered evildoers! Alright, so, well, his initial plan was to flee the city, but then his green lookalike decided to go and BLOCK every exit to St. Canard just as he was trying to drive away. It was almost impressive, really, to see what a bigger budget could have gotten them back in the good old days, but it was mostly terrifying that the guy behind these massive green growths was out there. W-w-what if these copycats had some sort of personal vendetta against the originals?! He wasn't sure why they would, but he wasn't taking any chances! He was driving to the nearest police station and that was it!

Only one road is cut off, the other is flooding towards him and it takes all his composure to slam on the reverse and scream at the same time, and instead, Tino decides to just head for the high ground at a park and go from there. Tino might have been speeding for the first time in his life just then, but he figured that it was fair -- and hey, maybe a cop would come and arrest him! No such luck, however.

The mallard duck looked positively green in the face ( no pun intended ) as he thought over his options, though it felt more like he was frozen in shock, just sitting there with his hands on the wheel and looking straight ahead. Was that… the ground shaking? If he looked at his bobblehead of Bushroot (which he'd be tossing out after this endeavor, thank you very much), he could take note of how it kept shaking as if with the steps of a giant duck --

The passenger door to his car opens, a figure jumps inside and Tino screams like a banshee and just tosses his wallet and car keys at them, fruitlessly trying to open the door and escape after he reactively locked them with the press of a button.

"TAKE IT, I DON'T NEED IT, I'M A POOR COLLEGE PROFESSOR SPARE ME --"

"JUST CALM DOWN, I DON'T WANT YOUR DANG -- wait Real? Tino Real?! It's me! Jack Pumi! Old co-star?!" And as if a switch had been flipped inside Tino's head, first his voice gives out and then his beak shuts, and his feathers unruffle themselves. Yes, he knew a Jack Pumi, that's right.

"Oh, sorry friend! You really shouldn't sneak up on a duck-like that, I feel like I almost laid my heart there!" Tino practically melts into his seat as his stress is wrung out of him at the sight of a familiar face during these scary times. "What brings you to… my car?" Hey, why did Jack get into his car?

"Ah, don't sweat it old chum! We're all a little jumpy nowadays, criminals on the run and all that." The Bushroot bobblehead is starting to shake with considerable vigor, but this is missed by the two as Jack pats Tino on the shoulder. "As for why I'm here --" A look in the rearview mirror, the surprisingly unmistakable sound of a car being stepped on not too far behind them by a giant clown robot. "DRIVE!"

You didn't have to ask Tino twice, even if they both fumbled with the keys back and forth before finally taking off as a massive foot concaved the ground where they just were, but it was best if they focused on that later. Right now, they were flooring it to… somewhere.

"Just like the good old days, don't you think? So, what's the plan, captain?" As Jack tried to hold on through Tino's panicked driving, he felt he might as well make some small talk -- not to mention that he talks when he's nervous.

"In the good old days, we were the bad guys squashing innocent civilians, and I have to say, it isn't much fun when you're on the other side of it! And p-plan, well, I don't know, drive until it leaves us alone? Until the deranged clown gets bored?"

"If I recall, boring that quacking menace is the last thing you want to do…"

"Well, what do you suggest?! Ohnononoit'sgettingcloser!" And the laughing is getting considerably irksome, if not straight up giving the both of them goose-skin.

"Where were you going before I showed up, why were you just sitting there at the park?"

"I was thinking of driving to a police station and hiding there, but the streets got flooded so I drove to higher ground and then… I froze in the existential terror of considering that a super-powered copycat of myself was wreaking havoc."

"First: beats driving in circles trying to lose this clown, second: boy I feel ya, but now's maybe not the time to focus on that pal-io! How's about you really step on the gas and see if we can't throw it off? There, right there! Turn!"

A paired screaming match occurs when Jack just grabs the wheel and sends them on a sudden turn right, Tino struggling to regain control of the car before laughing hysterically with nervous energy as Quackerjack's mech kept going straight… before turning to look at them again. They screamed again and floored the gas as far down as this crusty old car could go.

Meanwhile, Quackerjack just let out a singular 'huh' at the realization that there was a car under him the whole time… before devolving into a manic fit of giggles at the realization of the terror he caused to the two little bugs hidden under his massive robot's beak. Oh, he loves being a bad guy. Endless fun!

---

"I'm TELLING you, that's a giant Quackerjack robot! Look! Look!"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I can't jump that high?!"

---

The rest of the drive was… surprisingly peaceful. Sure, there were random root systems on the road that pretty much served as speedbumps every so often, but outside of that there was no sign of any evildoers, only the ominous red glow in the sky coming from some skyscraper or other, neither Tino or Jack cared much for the fancy science labs uptown… but that probably explains the commotion going on! The bet was on if it was science or magic behind this mess, and Tino was feeling pretty sure about his bet on magic.

Alright, so maybe peaceful wasn't the word, more like… eerie. But it beat constant panic 100%, so Tino wasn't complaining! About that, at least. He was most certainly complaining about his current treatment at the police station -- they wouldn't arrest him! Which wasn't a complaint he thought he could make.

"We're not looking for fanboys, we're looking for the actual actors to turn themselves in!"

"F-fanboys!? Why I oughta -- do you expect me to grow a plant on top of my head? I'm Tino Real, I played Bushroot, this is Jack Pumi, he played the Liquidator. What's next, you expect him to turn into liquid?"

Perhaps a bad choice of words, as that's exactly the footage that was shown through live news on the tv right then and there, Bushroot and the Liquidator teaming up and just wiping the floor with what appeared to be… Gizmoduck. Huh. Oh well.

"Honestly, yes. We already caught the other two, and they're not causing any problems anymore."

"Wait, other two? Do you mean Dan and Mike?" Jack interrupts, only to be interrupted himself by the officer that had just been speaking. "Quackerjack and Megavolt," the officer corrects.

Tino can't resist facepalming.

"You can see Quackerjack in the distance from here…" It was true, it looked like he was headed for the building emitting that ominous glow, for whatever reason, but there's no missing that giant clown robot-toy thing. That murmured exasperation does give the officer pause, and he holds up an index finger telling them to wait where they are… which they do, with a tap of a foot and impatient crossed arms, as he walks around his desk, doggy tail impatiently swooshing behind him… before quickly tucking between his legs as he hurried back inside, seconds before the lights inside the station all shut down, emergency generators kicking in seconds after.

"Quackerjack, Megavolt, accounted for. You were right." Snout pale, the dog looked like he was sweating underneath his coat of fur, licking his lips in nervousness. So maybe they shouldn't have been quite as ruff when apprehending the first two… Oh well. "I don't care anymore, you can share a cell with the other washed-up acts." The green duck said something about it being safer in than out, and well, the police dog couldn't exactly argue against it. Besides, the mayor said to apprehend them, right? Hopefully, no word about them trying to turn these two away would surface…

---

"Dan, Mike, buddies, remember me?!"

That got the two sitting in the cell snap their heads up so fast, one could almost hear a whip crack, and Mike punches Dan in the shoulder, a large grin on his face. "See, what did I tell ya, they got caught too, which means they know we're innocent, so they have to let us out. That, and you owe me 20."

"Funny joke, clown, they're joining you, not the other way around."

One click, two click, and Toni and Jack join the other two actors inside the cell, and Toni nearly kisses the floor he's so glad to be inside and safe. Well, safe-ish.

"Haha, don't mind him, we just had a rough trip on the way over, traffic was absolutely killer!" No, Jack couldn't help it, he had to make that joke. "We would've gotten here sooner, but we spent like ten minutes driving away from a killer giant robot that looked like… what's with the clown costume?" It wasn't Quackerjack-y, but that was definitely a clown outfit.

"Oh, was that your car?! Ahahaha -- sorry, sorry, but that's all I could see from that window -- he almost crushed you two a good five times! And I'm a clown. End of story." The tone of voice certainly said so, but then it quickly turned to confusion. "Wait, what do you mean 'gotten here sooner'? You want to be in jail?"

"Well, we, we, we were going to turn ourselves in! And we did! It's safer to be in here than out there, you know! You watched us almost get crushed!"

Mike looks like he's about to say something, and then he realizes Toni definitely had a good point there, so he settles on shrugging his shoulders, looking at Dan and hoping he'd have any sort of opinion on this other than just 'meh'.

"So…" Dan starts, feeling particularly coerced by Mike's incessant staring, but not having anything interesting to talk about.

"So…" Jack copies as he looks around their holding cell before slapping his hands together. "We're staying in here until this all blows over, as I'm pretty sure they know we're not the ones causing the big old ruckus. Kind of slaps me with a terrible sense of deja-vu, to be quite honest. The Fearsome Four, back together!"

That does bring up some amused mumbling from the group, even if the mere mention of the show had since gotten stale thanks to Jim Starling's obsession with it, mentioning it wherever he went.

"The only thing that's missing is Dorkwing Duck, huh?" Mike adds, snickering to himself, before pausing with a pensive look on his beak, and Toni can't help but regret what he's about to ask:

"What's on your mind, Michael?"

"Just thinking, really, but… What if this is Jim's doing? You all heard how he went crazy about the movie, right? Single handedly got it canceled, got into a fight with the new guy playing Darkwing Duck. What if this is him trying to reboot it on his own now?" Ignoring the fact that it sounded like a conspiracy theory, it almost made sense. He hasn't been seen since, so what if he was planning his comeback all this time?

The four occupants of the cell look at each other, and then break down laughing.

"As if! That thick headed, self-centered dimwit couldn't plan something this far ahead!"

"Where would he find these super-powered copycats, anyway?!"

"You'd think he'd come for the source material, if it came to that!"

"Ahaha, I know, right!?"

And just like that, the ice was broken, and the four of them made themselves as comfortable as they could in their current situation, deciding to look at it as a surprise reunion. Funny how most of their problems with the old show stemmed from Jim…

---

A large explosion echoes through St. Canard, and Mike wastes no time in trying to peek out the tiny cell window while a commotion began at the front of the police station. The ominous red glow faded from the sky, the plants withered, lights flickered back on through the city, and floods ran down drain pipes.

Whatever it was, it was done. Hopefully.

---

The next morning wasn't exactly glamorous. They were served their breakfast slop and told to wait until they fixed the bureaucracy involved in this mess, because apparently there was no paperwork for "interdimensional villains from an old live-action hero show", and there was no real proof they weren't connected somehow.

"Outside of the fact that we spent all night in here?! Let! Us! Out!"

"Seriously, what is it with clowns and short tempters…" Dan mutters, but all that Toni and Jack offer him is a vague shrug. Mike was just like that, why else would they pick him to play Quackerjack?

"Experts agree, stressing yourself out won't get you anywhere, friend!" Jack starts, even if he's not exactly sure who the experts would be in this case. It does make the duck stop trying to strangle or otherwise pry the cell bars appart with sheer physical strength -- that, or someone was finally coming to see them. Turns out it was the later, but Jack would like to believe he helped anyway!

No words of acknowledgement, just the same cop that greeted Toni and Jack yesterday, but now, instead of a scared look on his face, he looked positively starstruck. Which would be nice, if he hadn't made it clear that he didn't care about their acting careers, so what gives? The four of them look at each other, and after a vague shrug from Dan, they file out of the holding cells and make their way out. Or plan to, at least, until Mike comes to a full stop and forces everyone behind him to stumble over each other.

"Hey, what gives --!"

"JIM!? I WAS KIDDING WHEN I SAID THOSE THINGS YESTERDAY, I DIDN'T THINK IT WAS ACTUALLY YOU BEHIND THIS --"

The clown-attired duck rattles off, and that startles both the party behind him and the supposed Jim, who jumps a whole foot into the air and stretches his hands in front of him, trying to calm the shocked duck down.

"N-no, no, you got it all wrong, I'm Darkwing Duck! The one and only! Technically based on the remake but we don't talk about it! AlsoI'mabigfanandIwaswonderingifyouwouldn'tmindsigningthisposter--"

The first part wouldn't be unbelievable if it had been Jim, but the mention of a remake knocked it down a peg, and then saying he's a fan and asking for an autograph, even if said all in one breath, definitely meant it wasn't Jim. The (once) Fearsome Four let out a shared sigh that they didn't know they were holding as they surrounded this… cosplayer, for lack of a better term.

"Could've fooled me, you're his splitting image, I tell you what… Well, no, you're smooth. He was more…" Mike takes a second to mess up his face feathers, making it look like he'd been sleeping face down for a month. "Gruff, yeah? You look like a baby in comparison."

"Hey! I'll have you know I saved this city from complete annihilation!"

"What was that about a poster, kiddo?" Jack interjects, leaning over Mike's shoulder. "I guess it's the least we can do for saving our city, and in turn us. Not going to lie, it's been a while since I've signed a poster, ever since I started selling --"

"Tupperware?! I have your entire collection, you weren't lying when you said those things could last!"

Jack had to stop and blink for a second, even if his brain automatically had him fetch a pen from an inner pocket. The guy was a "hero", yet here he was fanboying over a tupperware salesman. "Haha, well, I don't like having my face attached to cheap products, what can I say. So, who do we make it out to be?"

"Uh… Darkwing… Duck?"

"Creative," Dan adds with a snicker, but takes the pen from Jack anyway to sign the poster.

"Short notice, what can I say, I came as soon as I heard that they had you guys locked up in here, after making sure the interdimensional evil-doers were in their respective places of course!" The masked duck before them poses in what they guess he thinks is a heroic pose, and out of politeness they don't mention that it makes him look like an absolute tool.

"So those… look-alikes, they're gone? Oh, I never realized quite how frightening our characters were at the time, it was just a silly children's cartoon…" Genuinely, all that Toni wanted now was to crawl home and pass out for a week straight, even if he might miss a weeks worth of work. He felt like it was only fair!

"Darkwing Duck guarantee! I would tell more in hopes of assuring you, but it's all classified, I'm sure you can understand. Just know that there's a real hero watching St. Canard now! Petty thug or super-villain, I'm your guy!"

The poster goes from hand to hand, and they all sign it before giving it back, and the excitement the masked duck shows for it is a little nice, as Jack had mentioned previously. Usually Jim hogged all the attention at fan meetings, whether the fan wanted it or not.

"Oh Launch… I mean, LP is going to eat his scarf when he sees this! You guys have just made a hero's day! Say, would it be too much if I asked for a h--"

"Yeah, no, too much." Dan deadpanned, and everyone agreed wholeheartedly, instead offering a handshake instead, which is gladly taken.

"So, what are your plans now? I could give one of you a ride!" Wringing his hat between his hands, this Darkwing Duck wannabe looked like he wanted to tag along with them, as if he expected them to act like they did on the show, and an awkward look was shared between the four of them. How to gently let this guy down… Seriously, they didn't need a vigilante deciding reality equals fiction -- IGNORING THE EVENTS OF LAST NIGHT.

"Thanks but no thanks, my plan is to go home, pass out, and forget this ever happened." Answer, you just don't, it's a grown man for quack's sake. Mike drops the cape corner he was inspecting and waltzes out the door, his hat jingling behind him.

It didn't take much for everyone else to follow after.

"Pretty much." "Ditto." "I'm still not certain it wasn't an overly elaborate dream."

Not taking a hint, Darkwing Duck follows after them, waving as they all squeeze into Toni's little car. "Good thinking, guys! Just remember, if there's trouble --"

"You call DW!" Alright, he could have that one freebie on the house, Jack decided, even if everyone else in the car stink eyed him for indulging the masked weirdo. "What, it is a catchy tune!"

The car wasn't the only thing grumbling as it drove off.

[ifyoulovemeletmebinge]

We’re All Monsters

destiel au where everything in canon is used at the wrong time and oh also cas is a monster. 

for @beingforcedtolivebadwriting

RATED M 

read it on ao3 here:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Dean Winchester knows he hates monsters.

That’s one thing. It’s almost the first thing. In almost every situation.

Dean wakes up and all he can think of is how much he hates monsters.

Some of it comes from the fact that John is a shitty dad and that’s not because of him being a shitty dad. Dean can’t remember much at all from his life before the fire, but from what John tells him, they were The Perfect American Family. He knows that at least.

He also knows that because monsters fucked that dynamic up for his family, he hates them unconditionally.

None of that has been truer than how he feels tonight. Tonight, his hands are still shifty on the wheel of the Impala, tonight his feet are still struggling to reach the brake pedal without stretching, and tonight the sky is pitch black and the air is warm and humid, and tonight he’s gonna kill some monsters.

Well. Maybe not.

John’s instructions were to stop by (by which he means break in) the morgue, take an extra look at the bodies, and identify any marks that stand out for a tell of what kind of son of a bitch they were dealing with.

John usually does this himself, but Dean thought it best to not bring up the fact that his dad needs to drink himself to blissful unconsciousness on the week of the anniversary of his dead wife. The case was bad timing, thus, Dean is the lucky pick to do the dirty work.

Not that he minds. This is something he wants to do. This is something he craves. Dean has been getting taller and bigger and stronger, and his hands have been itching more, and he can’t stop shifting his weight, and lately he feels like doing something that will fully transition him into the man he’s supposed to be. Except all he knows is John, and John is a hunter.

But Dean doesn’t mind. He’s good with a gun, and he’s a quick runner (he would have joined the track team if John had let them stay past Christmas break at his last school), and if that’s all he’s got, he’ll use it to do something. He’ll figure it out.

He’d way prefer to risk himself getting arrested, and going to juvie (again), than Sammy. Sammy, who’s back at the motel. Sammy who’s hopefully, peacefully sleeping. Sammy, who he hopes won’t be awake to see John come back from the bar. Dean intends to make it back before that. It’s only 11pm. He’s got time.

Dean parks the Impala (he only struggles for a few seconds with it, alright) a couple blocks down from the police station. His shoulders crowd up around his ears, cotton of his sweatshirt brushing his jaw, as he walks, as silent as he can, between the shadows of the decorative trees in this stupid suburb, to the back of the station.

He’s already scouted the place earlier in the day, so he knows which window leads to the desired formaldehyde smelling room. The station is only one story high, so he’s easily able to unlatch the outside lock with his pocket knife, and heave himself up. He shimmies himself in (fuck, that window’s tight) and ends up doing a supported handstand on the morgue floor. He throws his legs to the side--only hurting his ankles a little on the edge of the window--and then he’s finally got both his feet on the ground.

Dean stands up from his crouch, slowly. Then he scoffs to himself. Who the fuck is gonna hear him in here?

He moves closer to where the target is. There’s a sleek metal table in front of him, and yes, there’s a dead person on it, covered by a thin white sheet. Dean searches for gloves in the dark, because he’s a teenage boy but he’s not that gross, and he snaps them on, pulling back the sheet and averting his eyes from the corpse’s face. He goes straight to where the money is.

At the junction between the corpse’s shoulder and jaw, right in the middle of the neck, there’s a big bite. It’s not anything his dad has seen before, as he kept complaining so much since they found the case, and Dean has to swallow back bile at how ugly it looks. Black and protruded, half scaly-like, half-raw ripped skin, at least under the moonlight coming from the window. He should have brought a flashlight.

Dean is cataloging the patterns to draw for his dad later, tracing his fingers over the lines carefully, really feeling the texture and the way it’s swollen the skin. He thinks he imagines the sound at first.

Then he stops his hand, and he thinks again.

That’s definitely a sound. Like a real movement that wasn’t him, and it’s coming—it came at least—from the room right next door, the main storage for the other bodies. Dean turns his head to look at the door, and oh, would you look at that, it’s peeking open to more darkness on the other side. Where the sound came from. Except how is there a sound at a morgue in the dead of night?

Dean was not prepared for this. His heartbeat starts announcing itself in his ears, and he’s almost vibrating with fear. He thinks of his dad. What would John do at a time like this? Probably start shooting.

But Dean didn’t have a gun. Even if he did, it could just be the doctor, or a policeman staying after (they always got in his way), and he can’t go around shooting random people. It’s hard to explain to a dead person: “Hey! Sorry! Thought you were a monster! My bad!”

Then he remembers his pocket knife, whips it out, and holds it tight in his right fist. Dean starts walking towards the door, but he wants to knock the whole wall down and skeet the fuck out of there.

He holds his breath as he gently kicks the door with the tip of his boot (he figured out a way to make Sam convince John to get him new ones, and yeah, these loggers are pretty fucking cool), and then he’s in the room.

The first thing he notices when his eyes adjust to how dark it is in there (honestly, would it kill a monster to turn on a light?), is the two figures bent over what he assumes is another poor corpse being taken advantage of. He also hears… ew. Those are chomping and chewing noises. He never gets the clean ones.

Dean doesn’t know what to do! Does he shout? Scare them? Lunge at them? Anything he does next could be the last thing he does. Is he ready to die?

Luckily, Dean doesn’t have to decide his first move because the figures do it for him.

It happens too fast—and maybe he’s reading too many comics because his first thought is I wish I had super speed like Barry so I could gank these fuckers, except he doesn’t, so it’s fast.

He’s on his back in a blink. There’s a bony arm on his neck and another holding one of his wrists in a grip so tight Dean wants to make a eulogy for his circulation. There’s also a normal-ish weight on his hips and his stomach, which suddenly lurches because fuck. Fuck. The monster’s on him, he’s pinned. And for some reason he’s still alive.

Still. Fuck.

After a moment of heaving breathing from the guy on top of him, the figure lurking around, and his own wheezing lungs, Dean grunts out: “You guys gonna eat me or what?”

The guy above him doesn’t let up, but Dean does feel the other one walking around. Like the ground shakes with his every step as he comes closer to Dean’s ears near the floor.

“Personally,” says Figure 2 from way above him, and Dean feels disoriented at how far away his voice sounds, “I’m fairly content. My son here, however… well, he’s just famished.”

Dean’s eyes flick to the guy on him, trying to make out his features but it’s just too dark, and all he can feel is the terribly tight grip on his wrist, the way his forearm is crushing on his neck, and—hey. His pocket knife is still in his hand. His free hand, the one trapped under the small of his back, where he can feel the butt of the handle digging into his skin slightly.

“Go on, son.”

Figure 1, aka The Son, seems to be hesitating, and Dean doesn’t want to wait till he decides if he wants more salt on him or not before the meal, so he wriggles his hand out, and drives it across his body and downwards in a surprisingly strong stroke. He knows he hit something when the arms on top of him lift up entirely, and there’s a pained groan resounding amid the darkness.

He rolls on his side, scrambles up, and flies out of the room, back into the main morgue lab, through the door, down and down the long hallway, past the reception desk, and he’s out the main entrance, not caring one bit about the obnoxious ringing of the alarm behind him.

His calves are burning by the time he throws himself in the Impala, and he clumsily fishes out his dad’s keys, turning the car on. He drives 50 above the speed limit until he gets to the motel.

Dean tells John everything. He draws what he remembers with shaky hands. He neglects to mention how many of them there were.

<15 years later>

“And then, like a fucking Clint Eastwood movie, he comes back home--”

“You mean the motel?” Sam interrupts.

“Yeah, whatever. So he barges in the door--” Dean frames a rectangle with his hands “--silhouetted by the moonlight, and he tucks his gun in and he swings his dirty machete over his shoulder and he tilts his head and then he says: ‘Boy, pack your stuff. Our job here is done.’ I mean… it was fucking awesome,” Dean chuckles.

“I think your memory is unreliable.”

“Sam, you were dead to the world that night. On my bed, might I add, so you didn’t even see any of this. John kicked ass!”

Eileen’s smile is a little forced, and a little awkward, but Dean can’t blame her. His energy is hard to match when he’s a few beers in. Sam keeps eyeing her, like he's checking in on how she’s receiving this story about their dad. Like she would ever judge him for it.

“He sounds like a brave hunter,” she signs and says. Dean feels way too proud.

Sam tries and fails to keep the grimace off his face. “Yeah. Babe, is it late? We should…” he trails off, tilting his head in the direction of their bedrooms. Eileen nods in agreement, seeming relieved. She squeezes Dean’s hands as she leaves. Sam is standing now, and he waits until Eileen is gone to turn his bitchface on.

“Dean, please stop doing that.”

Dean furrows his eyebrows. “Doing what?”

Sam sighs, exasperated. “Praising dad. I don’t know, sugarcoating him, painting him as the hero. You know damn well he wasn’t.”

Dean’s throat tightens. If that’s what Sam thinks he was doing, he really doesn’t know him at all. He's full of indignation when he answers: “That’s the last thing that I would do. I know firsthand, more than you, how shitty John was. Sam, I know. I was telling the story how I remembered it. ‘Cause back then? Yeah, he was my hero. I’m old enough to know better now, but--what the fuck do you care? You think I’m purposely lying to Eileen? For what?”

Sam can’t meet his eyes. “Dean, no that’s not what I-I just can’t hear that shit. It makes me… uncomfortable. I don’t wanna talk about dad like that anymore. I'd rather not talk about him at all, actually! I just… I can’t hear that shit from you.”

Dean balks, mouth open. He scoffs, “Fine.” He stands up and puts his jacket back on, checking his pockets for his keys and his wallet.

He’s halfway up the stairs when Sam calls from the library, “Dean, come on. Let’s talk about this. Or not! Dude, we just got back from a hunt, don’t leave. Let just-let’s forget about it, alright?”

Dean pauses at the railing. He turns around and shouts down at Sam: “Yeah, sure, Sammy! Let's forget our whole heritage. It never fucking mattered to you anyways.”

He’s slamming the door to the bunker closed behind him, and hopping in the Impala (which he didn’t have time to wash or put in the garage since their hunt), and then he’s off god knows where. He needs a drink.

Dean picks the fourth bar/restaurant place he sees. That seems like far enough away from his brother for now. It’s one he hasn’t gone to yet. Fun, new, and exciting!

He’s working on his third whiskey, maybe half an hour after he arrived, when the bartender puts down another glass in front of him.

Dean glances up. “Hey, um. I’m good for now, really.”

The bartender is tying his long cornrows in a ponytail on the back of his head, and when he meets Dean’s eyes, he gives him a shit-eating grin. He nods off to the side, “Courtesy of your secret admirer.” Then he winks at him and leaves for the kitchen behind him. Dean feels all warm inside at that, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it before a man sits down on the stool next to him, a non-respectable four inch distance away.

Dean is appalled before he takes in this dude, and okay. Not bad. Looks about the same age, dresses like a grandpa from the trenchcoat he sees, has spiky black hair that Dean might want to run his hands through, and shit, fuck, he’s looking at Dean, say something!

“Hello,” the man says and whoa, who died and made you Batman? His lips are plumper than a guy’s lips usually are (look who’s talking, Dean) and chapped and they’ve got a nice shape. Dean likes the cupid’s arch on his upper lip, it looks classy. His nose is pointy, and maybe a bit small, but damn if it doesn’t work well with his sharp cheekbones. By the time Dean can register his eyes, all his brain can think of is wow.

Dean’s never seen bluer eyes. They’re as clear as the sky, but Dean feels like he could drown in them. Or maybe that’s just the way this man is looking at him. Dean’s rarely been stared at with this much intensity, and he feels a blush spread to the tips of his hot ears.

He clears his throat. “Hi.” Dean has to look away now, back to his own glass before he combusts. He’s surprised a dude like him would buy him a drink.

Apparently, the man can’t sense how awkward and unprepared Dean was for this because he starts talking again, keeping his voice low so that only Dean can hear him, so it’s only a rumble in his chest. “I hope I’m not overstepping. You looked like you needed some company. Is that the kind you like to drink?”

Dean is so flustered at the sheer… whatever this dude has, he has to remind himself this is a normal human interaction. Be nice. Make eye contact.

“Yeah, it’s uh--it’s great. Thanks. For buying it. Um, I’m kinda driving tonight, though, so I might want to stop at this--” Dean raises his own drink in his hand “--You can-you want it? I'd be a waste otherwise.” He’s cringing so bad inside that his stomach hurts.

The man levels him a neutral stare. A few seconds later, he nods and reaches over to pick up the extra whiskey. Dean follows his hands and fuck they’re nice. He’s got long fingers, and for some reason the way his metacarpals shift under his skin is incredibly attractive.

The fun doesn’t stop there though, because then the guy is bringing the glass to his mouth, and he’s not taking his eyes off Dean’s own wide ones, and he’s taking a drink and it all looks sinful. The way his trachea shifts as he swallows, the opening and closing of his enticing jaw, and especially the way his pink tongue peeks out from his mouth to lick at the rim of the glass.

Dean swallows what feels like sandpaper.

“My name is Castiel,” he says, putting the glass down, holding it between his hands like he's bracketing it. He shifts his hands and the glass follows, rotating back and forth.

“Dean.”

Castiel nods, his lips quirk up a little, and this might be the first sort-of smile Dean has seen from him.

“Why’d you buy me a drink?” he blurts out.

The grin grows by a millimeter. “You looked like you needed one.”

Dean snorts. “That bad, huh?”

“Maybe that good.” Dean sees a peek of teeth from Castiel and he can’t help but shiver.

Dean recognizes it for what it is, so he turns on his own charm, slipping into familiar flirting territory.

“So what do you do, Castiel?”

Castiel’s eyes flick to Dean’s mouth for the quickest moment, and then his mouth is a neutral plane again, smirk vanishing completely. He thinks for a few seconds. “I’m an accountant.”

Dean knows that could mean literally anything, except the guy is wearing a tie and there’s a trenchcoat, so yeah. He’s an accountant for real.

“Cool. Numbers, huh?”

Castiel narrows his eyes, like he’s squinting. Dean finds it both intimidating and endearing. “Yes. How about you, Dean?”

He blushes harder at hearing his name in that gravelly voice, but keeps his cool when he answers, rehearsed: “Odd jobs, here and there.”

Castiel doesn’t miss a beat. “Fascinating.”

Dean blinks. Okay. “Is it?”

“Yes. You must travel a lot.”

“I do, yeah,” he nods, feeling a little vulnerable.

Castiel is back to staring at him intensely, and it makes Dean’s veins sizzle a little with want. They’re upgrading from Flirting/Small Talk Territory to Let’s Go Like Now Territory. Dean’s breathing comes a little deeper.

“Would you like to travel right now?”

“What?”

Castiel is definitely looking at his mouth. “Would you like to go outside?”

Dean raises his eyebrows in surprise. This guy does not waste time. Not that he’s complaining, he’s been feeling hot all over since Castiel sat down, and he’d give himself at most another half an hour before he proposed they move this interaction somewhere else himself. So Dean downs the rest of his whiskey, feels the buzz in his ears and the tips of his fingers, and he stands up. “Let’s go.”

Castiel follows him outside.

The night is more humid than it should be for August, but Dean can feel the chill of Fall coming, and he’s grateful for his jacket. He’s shoved his hands in his jean pockets as he walks to the corner where the sidewall of the bar meets the front wall of it. He stops and leans one shoulder right at the edge of the wall to the side, facing the parking lot. Out of options for what to say, Dean waits until Castiel comes closer (his hands are in his trench coat pockets and it’s weirdly cute), and he points at his Baby, thirty feet away.

“That’s my car. She’s my Baby.”

Castiel stops two feet away from him, but right in front, and he turns his body to the side to follow where Dean’s finger points. He stares at the Impala for a bit, before he turns his head to Dean again. The light coming from inside the restaurant is what brightens Castiel’s face and Dean is a little breathless as he admires his illuminated features.

“She’s very beautiful.”

Dean smiles, proud and sheepish. “Thanks. Um, what about yours?”

Castiel inhales, taken aback. “Oh. I didn’t drive here tonight. I like walking.” he says slowly.

“Oh, okay.” Dean answers stupidly. It’s not that he’s disappointed they can’t talk about cars, it’s just… what else are they supposed to talk about at a moment like this?

“So what brought you here tonight, Cas?” Dean doesn’t catch himself in time, and the nickname is out. Oops. Castiel seems to inflate a little in response though, so he’s fine. For now.

“Rough day.” He says, then like an afterthought he adds, “At work.”

This dude is so fucking weird. Dean is obsessed with him.

Suddenly, he doesn’t want to wait anymore, he just wants to take what Castiel offered. He’s been wanting to taste him since he looked at his lips, so he smirks at Castiel and he asks, “Come here, Cas.”

For a moment Castiel tilts his head, and Dean can’t figure him out, and he kinda loves that, the anticipation of not knowing what this guy is gonna do or who he is. Dean beckons him with a hand. He’s drunk enough on the beers from earlier and the whiskey and the adrenaline drop from the finished hunt that he’s allowing himself this tonight. A little recklessness can’t hurt.

Castiel walks closer than Dean expected him to, and Dean turns to press his back to the side wall, his shoulder barely off the edge where the front and side connect. Castiel follows the twist of his body perfectly because suddenly he’s crowding Dean against the small space with his hands on either side of his head on the wall. Their faces are mere inches apart.

Dean loves the way the air shifts then, like someone pulled a lever down and the current of electricity started running. They’re breathing each other’s air, and Castiel’s eyes are glued to Dean’s mouth, while Dean alternates his staring between Castiel’s darkened eyes and those chapped lips. Dean feels like he's vibrating.

He forces his hands to unfreeze and brush the trench coat flaps aside, coming to rest on top of Castiel’s hips, over his belt. This moves their bodies closer still, Dean subconsciously opening his legs wider to let Castiel slot a knee in between them. Their hips press, Dean shivers, and then he shivers even more when he feels Castiel’s lips pressing against his.

It’s exactly like he imagined, except it’s about a thousand times better. Castiel’s lips are soft and pliant, and he presses brushing kisses and pecks Dean’s lips for a bit, leaving them tingling for more, until he starts to really get into it. Castiel softly clamps his mouth around Dean’s bottom lip and he pulls back, and Dean is so fucked. He tries to keep his knees from wobbling, and then he gets what he wants when Castiel presses forward again, kissing him open mouthed, and there is his tongue, and it tastes really sweet and Dean feels positively intoxicated.

He can’t remember when he closed his eyes, but there are fireworks exploding behind them, and his dick is saying “Hell, yeah!” and he’s tilting his head to kiss Castiel deeper, chasing more of his mouth and his taste and his smell. His hands are gripping Castiel’s hips in a vice.

Dean can’t help the moan he lets out when Castiel’s tongue does a thing, and he also can’t help his surprise when Castiel pulls back abruptly after the sound has registered. His shock is almost overshadowed by the crude things his brain is thinking when he takes in Castiel, whose lips are shiny and wet, and whose pupils are enormous.

Dean holds his breath, furrows his eyebrows, and waits. Castiel is looking at him, pained.

“Dean, I can’t,” he whispers.

There is a moment, and then Dean blinks, understanding everything. He’s a little upset, but mostly embarrassed, except his brain can’t fully express that, so it’s put through a well-oiled machine that converts it into anger. Now, that he can do.

He’s pushing Castiel off him, walking five steps away then pivoting and walking back. He repeats this path, running a hand down his face as Castiel just fucking stands there, looking at him sadly.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Dean bites out.

“Dean, I can-” Casties tries.

“No, seriously. What the fuck is wrong with you?” he whirls around to stare right at Castiel a few feet away. Castiel’s shoulders fall and it enrages Dean even more.

“You know what, Cas? Go fuck yourself. You got some issues to figure out, and it’s not gonna be with me. Go to hell, asshole.” Dean spits out, fixing Castiel with a furious stare, feeling his jaw tick in anger, and then he’s stomping away.

As he gets closer to the Impala, he crosses his arms, feeling indignation constrict his chest. This is not the first time this has happened with Dean and unfortunately, he thinks it probably won’t be the last.

Damn it. A guy like that? Probably has a pretty little wife, probably hides his wedding band right in his front pocket, which Dean completely skipped on his way to grab at Castiel’s ass. He groans internally as he rounds the back of the car till he reaches the driver’s door. He’s going home with the worst case of blue balls he’s ever had.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” He hears as he fishes out his keys and puts the right one in the slot to unlock the door, and hey, Castiel’s voice is much closer than he expected, but Dean doesn’t have time to turn around and yell at him some more because suddenly the ground is completely gone from under his feet. Dean’s vision goes blinding white, and then pitch black.

The pain finally registers on the back of his head, and the last thing he sees before he's out, is the key chain dangling from the lock on the Impala’s door.

****

The world slowly slots back together as Dean wakes up. There’s four, then three, then two, and then it all merges into one again. Dean acutely feels the pouding in his head.

He’s… laying down? Yeah, he’s on a bed. The mattress is nice. There's even a thin blanket on top of him, dark grey. He turns his head to the side-nope, that’s a wall-tries the other side and okay good, there’s the rest of the room. He feels a little less claustrophobic now that he’s seen the whole space. It’s dark just because the lights are off. It looks like a normal basement, unfinished ceiling and all, with boxes stacked in the corner covering a whole wall. There’s a couch facing him, parallel to the bed, and there’s a figure sitting there. Dean eyes his phone, wallet, car keys, and pocket knife on a night stand next to the bed. It’s just out of his reach.

He pinches his eyes shut, wiggles his toes in his boots (no brain damage done, yay), and then he groans out: “What can I do for ya, Mr. Monster?”

When he opens his eyes, Castiel has turned one of the overhead light bulbs on. He looks serious.

“Firstly, I want to apologize, Dean. I didn’t want to have to do this, and I didn’t plan for it.”

Dean is more than confused. “What.”

Castiel stands up from his couch, he’s only in his suit now, tie loosened, and damn Dean’s stupid (probably concussed) brain, but he still looks yummy. Monster, Dean. Focus.

Castiel crosses his arms, and plants his feet. He keeps a very respectable distance away from the bed, and Dean’s gut twists at the thought that he was playing him all along.

“I didn’t… want to seduce you. I just wanted to talk. I might have derailed from my plan slightly.”

Dean’s jaw ticks. “And what was that amazing plan of yours, Castiel? If that’s your real name.”

Castiel narrows his eyes at Dean’s tone. He huffs a breath out his nose, frowning.

“You know, Dean, you may not remember me, but I remember you. Fifteen years ago, your father killed my father, and I’ve been keeping tabs on you ever since.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breaths out after a few seconds of stunned silence, propping himself up to fully sit up on the bed. He feels his bruised brain click things together. “You’re the second one. You survived.”

Castiel is silent, and that’s all the confirmation Dean needs to know he was pinned down by this guy way before tonight.

Dean laughs. “What kind of fucked up revenge plot is this? You’ve been stalking me for years? Well, then you must know my father died of alcohol poisoning almost a decade ago. It was ugly and painful, and you missed your chance, asshole.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Dean,” he says sternly, “I didn’t want to kill your father. And I don’t want to kill you. That’s not why I ended up kidnapping you tonight. I’m grateful for what your father did for me.”

Dean does a double take, swings his feet off the bed and onto the ground. “You’re what?”

“This may come as a surprise, but not every monster is a monster. Not fully, anyway. I’m half-human. And I need your help to go all the way.”

[fitnessexpert00-blog]

How to Stay in Shape While Traveling

New Post has been published on https://fitnessqia.com/awesome/how-to-stay-in-shape-while-traveling/

How to Stay in Shape While Traveling

Everybody travels.

Whether it’s for business, pleasure, vacation, or world domination, at some point in “peoples lives” we all depart from the comfort of our personal “Shire” to visit another location.

It might be a quick trip to the next town over for a business conference or a massive escapade halfway around the world for months at a time.

No matter what kind of trip it is, one thing is certain :P TAGEND

Our normal routines get wholly hurled out the window when traveling :P TAGEND

If you work out in a gym, suddenly you might not have access to any equipment. If you run around your neighborhood, suddenly you no longer have a familiar path to follow. If you usually prepare your own meals, suddenly you don’t have a kitchen or fridge. If you’re used to a good night’s sleep, suddenly you’re sleeping at odd hours in different time zones.

We are beings of habit- while working a normal day chore, we can stick to a routine pretty easily( wake up at the same time, eat all meals at the same time, work out at the same time, go to sleep at the same time ).

However, when we start traveling, absolutely nothing is familiar and the slightest speed bump can be enough to screw things up.

Luckily, there is hope!

It’s time to get you a specific action plan that you can take with you on your next trip.

This is the philosophy we teach to all of our 1-on-1 Online Coaching Clients. Many travel quite a bit, so having” worldwide accountability” and a specific plan for travel has been a game changer for these Rebels.

Are you trying to learn a new workout, lose weight, or build muscle, but find doing it on the road a challenge? Let us help you- click below to learn more.

Step 1: Make It Your Constant

If you are trying to get healthy but need to travel often, I am asking you to stimulate workout your constant.

I don’t know if you were a Lost fan, but my favorite episode,” The Constant ,” involved a character named Desmond who had to find the one “constant” in their own lives in order to stay sane.

Something Desmond could focus on as his mind traveled through time.

You had to be there.

I’ve traveled quite a bit over the years: sightseeing nations, sleeping on bus, exploring temples, and visiting a new township seemingly every other day.

During all this chaos: exercising became my constant.

I knew that without a doubt , no matter where I was or what I was doing, every other day I would find a way to work out- no excuses. I might have had to add in an extra day between workouts maybe a handful of times.

What I’m trying to say is this: if you are serious about prioritizing your health, even while traveling, then start treating exercise like YOUR constant.

Make it a dependable, consistent thing in your schedule , no matter where you are in the world.

No matter what.

Sound difficult? Start by asking yourself the following table :P TAGEND

” If I HAD to still get my workouts in, even though they are I am traveling or on vacation, how would I do it ?”

Most answers will be something like this :P TAGEND

” If I had to work out, it would mean that I need to wake up SUPER early tomorrow morning to reach the gym before the conference starts .” “If I had to get my run in, it would mean I was only able to go for a 20 minute run instead of my normal 60 minute operated .” “If I had to get my workout in, that would mean I need to actually PAY for a day pass at a real gym, because I know hotel gyms are crappy .”

This is the most important question you can ask yourself before your trip:” How do I make this work for me ?”

Then, structure your environment and schedule to make it happen :P TAGEND

Add it to your calendar. Situated up a text reminder. Plan your schedule around it. Have your coach or friend remind you. Research the nearest gym or park.

Again, ask yourself- what if you HAD setting out , no matter what. How would you get it done? What would you need to change?

And then do whatever you can to make it your constant.

” Steve, I can find the time. But What KIND of workout should I do while traveling ?”

It all counts, but if I had to pick one, I’d say strength training.

Studies consistently show that strength training is the best method for weight management- especially when traveling- when coupled with a proper diet( we’ll talk about eating healthy while traveling shortly ). [ 1 ]

If time is limited on the road, and you’re gonna plan on only one sort of exercising, plan for strength training.

You’ll get the most bang for your buck with strength educate, especially when compared to a similar amount of time spent doing cardio.

So, if you ONLY have 30 minutes, prioritize strength.

Need some assistance on starting a strength educate routine?

We have a free guide, Strength Training 101: Everything You Need to Know, that will show you exactly how to start a practice to grow strong and build muscle. Plus, there’s a segment in there on develop without a gym, in case you there’s none in sight.

You can grab the guidebook for free when you join the Rebellion below :P TAGEND Download our comprehensive guide STRENGTH TRAINING 101!

Everything you need to know about getting strong.

Workout routines for bodyweight AND weight educate.

How to find the right gym and train properly in one.

I identify as a:

Woman

Man

Let’s talk some actionable steps exercising while traveling.

Step 2: Plan Your Workout Ahead of Schedule

Whenever I travel, my first mission- before I even leave- is to find a place for me to work out.

In some instances, this entails I pay $20 for a day pass at a real gym.

Yes, that is an absurd amount of money to expend for one day in a gym, especially considering I merely pay $30 a few months for my current gym membership!

However, I gladly pay this amount every time I travel, and prioritize it in my travel budget.

Because exercise is critical in my life right now.

Because NOT exercising isn’t an option( assure step 1 ).

Because I’m not just paying $20 to use a gym.

Because I’m really paying the $20 to KEEP my momentum going.

Everybody conflicts with getting back on track AFTER they come home from a trip.

I am no different.

So, by hitting the gym- even when traveling- I am maintaining momentum, which constructs getting back into rhythm when I get home super easy.

No gym anywhere in sight?

No problem, I once expended 8 months living out of a knapsack and never once set foot in a gym.

So my “gym” became anywhere with the following:

A pull-up bar or swing set A sturdy tree branch A house or bus stop overhang

I know that as long as I can find one of those three things, I could complete a full workout!

My workouts consist of :P TAGEND

A push exercising( push-ups or handstands ), A pull exercise( pull-ups or rows ), A leg exercise( lunges or squats ), A core exercise( planks or hanging knee tucks ).

You can check out our post” How to Build Your Own Workout Routine” for inspiration on creating a training practice in your nearby environment.

Even only one full-body strength training session per week( if you’re on a shorter trip) can often be enough to allow you to maintain your current levels and hit the ground running when you get back.

What’s that “youre telling”? Your hotel gym is TERRIBLE?

I know. They all are.

Which is why I work out in my hotel room instead( here’s a 20 -minute routine for you to try ).

Just remember, going ahead and construct exercise your “constant.”

STEP 3: Nutrition is Still the Most Important part of the Equation.

Despite what you read in Instagram captions, calories on vacation still count.

Every beer.

Every cookie.

Every french fry.

Armed with this information, you can do one of two things :P TAGEND

Path# 1: Lament the fact that your body still follows the laws of thermodynamics. Then, eat bad food and was terrible about yourself when you get home. Track# 2: Plan ahead, STILL eat unhealthy food while traveling, and don’t feel bad while doing so. Come home and not weigh any more than you did when you began your trip.

Everybody picks Path# 1.

We’re going to pick Path# 2.

I promise you it’s possible.

Personally, I know I am going to eat poorly while traveling. It generally means eating at a Chili’s at the airport, or Wendy’s on a road trip. Knowing that this happens literally every time I travel, I going ahead!

Here’s what I do specifically while traveling :P TAGEND

# 1) I skip dinners strategically. I know that if I skip breakfast, it entails I can eat a slightly larger lunch and have an extra drink with dinner and STILL come in under my daily calorie expenditure.

# 2) I prepare for bad meals. I love me a good steak dinner with a side of mac and cheese and sweet potato fries and dessert and a few whiskeys. When I’m on vacation or celebrating, that sounds like heaven to me.

However, I know if I always eat like that, I’m going to pack on a ton of weight.

So I plan ahead for a big meal so that I can enjoy it guilt-free, and not see the scale budge. I eat protein and veggies for lunch, strategically undereating so that I can overeat for dinner- and not gain weight in the long run.

# 3) I never eat 2 bad snacks in a row. We have a big” never two in a row” rule at Nerd Fitness. Believe it or not, even being healthy just 50% of the time carries with it the tremendous potential for weight loss and a healthier life. So, if you feed a bad lunch, follow it up with a healthy dinner. Eat fast food for dinner? Cool! Make your breakfast healthy.

This is NOT” 100% or nothing .” Every decision counts, every meal counts, so any decision where you are SLIIIIIGHTLY healthier than you would have been otherwise is a win in my book.

Curious on my default diet these days? You can read all about it right here. And here is the specific diet I followed- while traveling frequently- to lose 22 pounds sustainably.

Tips for Eating HEALTHY on THE ROAD

Since diet is everything, here are some tips-off for feeing nutritiously, airport to airport.

Ask for a mini-fridge. You’d be surprised at how many hotels will have a room with a mini-fridge waiting. You merely have to ask for it. Granted, it might be full of junk food they’re trying to peddle on you. Fill it with your own healthy snacks- only make sure they don’t charge you for taking out the other foods! Fruit, sliced veggies, and some deli meat will provide you with some sustenance until you can order a proper meal.

Here is a post with some ideas for healthy snacks you can buy and store in your room.

Travel with a cooler. If you know the hotel can’t accommodate a mini-fridge, or you’re on a road journey , no problem! Bring a mini-cooler or cooler container. If you use a container, it’ll fold up for easy packing.

Is it weird to travel with a cooler? Sure. But we embrace weird around these portions.

Bring non-perishable snacks with you. I’ve eaten almonds forgotten in a knapsack, months later, and lived to tell the tale.

Lots of dry food like nuts and jerky won’t spoiling anytime soon, so store some in your travel bag. It’s a good move to have snacks on you at all periods, because who knows when you’ll eat next. Munching some beef jerky is a much better idea than the pizza in the airport terminal. Here are some good almonds to purchase, and here’s some recommended beef jerky for you to try out.

Focus on protein and fiber. When preferring meals or snacks, make sure the foods you pick are full of protein and fiber.[ 2 ] This will help keep you full, so you’re not seduced to eat the donuts waiting for you at your work conference.

What are protein and fiber-rich foods? Hard-boiled eggs will store good, and is also available bought at many convenience store. That’s a good protein source. Deli meat, jerky, and nuts will also do the trick for your protein requirements.

Fiber-rich foods? Fruit and veggies for the win. Always bring an apple with you.

All is not lost if you order fast food. There’s a common notion amongst our coaching clients, that the moment you step foot in a fast food store, “youve lost”. You made a terrible decision by even strolling in. Might as well order whatever, because you already failed.

This is 100% not true. What you order will make all the difference. For example, I feed a chicken bowl from Chipotle almost every day. To the point that it’s weird.[ 3 ]

Why? Because it’s healthier than anything I’m realistically going to make at lunchtime, devoted my schedule.

Remember, what you order, is often more important than where you order.

Let’s dive into that last phase a little more.

HEALTHY EATING THROUGH FAST FOOD

Let’s outline an entire day’s worth of eating, provided by a drive-thru window.

Most of these can also be found at your median airport terminal.

BREAKFAST :P TAGEND

Location: Starbucks

Sous Vide Egg Bites, Bacon& Gruyere: A great protein source. Go ahead and order some black coffee with it too.

Calories: 310 Protein: 19 g Net Carbs: 9g Fat: 22 g

Location: Dunkin’ Donuts

Sausage Egg and Cheese Bagel( no bagel ): Sausage and egg are a breakfast staple. Plus, cheese!

Calories: 370 Protein: 16 g Net Carbs: 3g Fat: 33 g

LUNCH :P TAGEND

Location: McDonald’s

Bacon Ranch Grilled Chicken Salad( Use the Balsamic Vinaigrette ): It’s mostly greens, grilled chicken and a little bacon. No customization involved. Your salad comes in under 400 calories.

Calories: 320 Protein: 42 g Net Carbs: 6g Fat: 14 g

Location: Subway

Oven Roasted Chicken: Grab it with lettuce, spinach, tomatoes, onion, green peppers, cucumbers, and olives, with petroleum and vinegar as dres. Also, feel free to add bacon and guacamole to increase your calories. Your nutrition info will look like this if ordered as above:

Calories: 490 Protein: 24 g Net Carbs: 11 g Fat: 35.5 g

DINNER :P TAGEND

Location: Boston Market

Three-Piece Dark: Lot’s of protein, decent fat, and no carbs.

Calories: 300 Protein: 37 g Net Carbs: 1g Fat: 16 g

Green Beans: Keep it simple.

Calories: 90 cals Protein: 1g Net Carbs: 4g Fat: 5g

Fresh Steamed Vegetables: Following our “simple” strategy.

Calories: 60 Protein: 2g Net Carbs: 4g Fat: 3.5 g

Location: Chipotle

Salad Bowl( with Carnitas ): order it with Fajita Vegetables, Fresh Tomato Salsa, Sour Cream, Cheese, and YES for Guacamole.

Calories: 710 Protein: 34 g Net Carbs: 12 Fat: 51 g

The above should help give you some notions on what to order when you’re depending on fast food.

Want some more notions? You got it.

HOW TO EAT HEALTHY AT THE CONTINENTAL BREAKFAST

So your room come here for a free complimentary breakfast.

Might as well take advantage of it!

Go ahead and load up on these :P TAGEND

Eggs. We mentioned earlier to prioritize protein with your meals. Simply about every hotel continental breakfast will have some eggs. The quality might be so-so, however. If they have some hot sauce around, this can stimulate just about any scramble tolerable.

Sausage. Continuing with our protein theme, if there is sausage at the buffet, grab some. Granted, it’ll often have some sugar in the form of maple syrup included. But we’re going with the best we can here.

Bacon. We love bacon around these components so much better, we wrote an entire post on it. The fat in bacon will help keep you full until you’re next meal. Plus, if the eggs are crappy( the eggs will probably be crappy ), you can mix in some bacon to bring up the tasty factor.

Fruit. It can’t all be about meat. Go ahead and grab some fruit for your plate. Apples are relatively high in fiber, which is why they’re my going to see. Bananas also have decent fiber, as well as vitamin C, vitamin B6, and potassium.

Are there berries available? Grab some for their antioxidant potential( we talk all about berries and antioxidants in this article ).

One final word about fruit. Fruit can be relatively high in sugar, so it’s important to eat some protein( eggs, sausage) with it to help prevent insulin spikes. You can check out this article for a deep diving into the subject.

Toast. I know, I know, we might be attracting the Carb Police on us for this one. But you can do a lot worse at a breakfast buffet than a little whole wheat toast. If you put some eggs and bacon on it, you have yourself a pretty decent breakfast sandwich with some fiber to help keep you full.

Alright, prioritize the above on your plate. Plus, bide clear of the following :P TAGEND

Juice. If I could give you one single piece of diet advice, it would be this: don’t drink your calories. There’s a lot of arguments on diets, but this advice is widely accepted.

An orange has plenty of vitamins in it, plus a lot of fiber to help balance out the sugar. OJ? Zero fiber, which means it’ll wreak havoc on your blood sugar levels.

Skip the juice and feed the whole fruit.

Pancakes/ Waffles. Don’t eat these. The batter itself will have sugar in it, plus it’s designed to have more sugar( maple syrup) poured on top.

Stick to toast.

Cereal. A breakfast food often packed full of sugar is cereal. For example, the third ingredient for Cheerios is “sugar.” And that’s Cheerios. Don’t even get me started on Fruit Loops or Frosted Flakes.

Again, stick to toast.

The above advice should get you started on loading up properly at a breakfast buffet.

Step 4: Stay Active. it All Counts.

Last but not least- stay active.

I don’t care if you’re walking laps in the airport while listening to Ke$ ha during a two-hour layover or jumping rope at a bus stop- if you can find a way to be active, you are winning.

It all counts!

I already told you that eating right will be 90% of your success or failure- that means you need to be ” on” with how you feed every day, even on days that you’re not strength training.

Go for a run around the town, go for a hike, toss a frisbee in the park, go swimming in the ocean, etc.

Whatever it is, do something!

Here’s why this is so crucial: on days when I exercise, I feed better.

Something activates in my brain when exerting that says” I’m trying to be healthy, so I’m going to eat healthy .”

On days when I don’t exert at all, I tend to say things like” meh, I’ll do it tomorrow” or’ it’s only one meal” or” it’s only 37 brews”( kidding, Mom ).

Want to keep things simple?

Go for a walking– try walking EVERYWHERE. In a big city? If it’s nice out walk instead of taking a cab! Go for a jog around your new surroundings…just stay active.

If you’re on a work journey, consider trying a” strolling meeting ,” attained famous by Steve Jobs. You know, that guy who is responsible for the device you’re probably reading this article on.

Step 5: Practice Antifragility.

Things are going to go wrong while you travel.

Your flight WILL get delayed.

Your merely options for food WILL be McDonald’s.

Your hotel gym WILL be crappy.

You’ll forget your kid at home.

It’s going to happen, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

So rather than getting flustered and lamenting the fact that things aren’t perfect, prepare for chaos!

What doesn’t kill you constructs you stronger.

And what doesn’t violate you attains you stronger too.

This is how we become antifragile.

If you know things will most likely get interrupted, then you won’t be bamboozled when it happens!

This is why I try to live out former president Teddy Roosevelt’s quote:” Do the best you can, with what you have, where you are .”

I know I’m going to eat fast food and get stuck doing a hotel room workout.

It’s better than nothing, right?

If I can’t get to a gym…I do a workout in a park.

If I can’t get to a park…I do a workout in my hotel room.

If I can’t do a full workout, I do half a workout.

If I can’t feed perfectly, I aim for “pretty good.”

50% compliance is still 50% better than nothing!

A NOTE ON SLEEP, JET LAG, AND HYDRATION

We need to address a few final points: sleep, jet lag, and hydration.

All of these are going to impact your ability to follow the steps above.

FIRST UP, SLEEP.

When I’m sleep deprived, I often don’t have the energy to exercise…when current realities is that workout is often the thing that will give me energy( foreshadowing ).

Also, if you’re lacking on shuteye, you’ll get hungrier.[ 4 ] When you’re sleep deprived, your brain sends signals for more energy, which means more calories. This is troublesome if you’re trying to hold out until you can order a nutritious chicken salad.

Prioritize sleep.

Two good tools to help with this are earplugs and an eye mask. Some hotels have a way of being bright and noisy.

DEALING WITH JET LAG.

Even being able to go to sleep, is going to assume you are not suffering terribly from “jet lag.”

Jet lag is the phenomenon of traveling from one time zone to another, but still being stuck in the former time.

For example, you fly from New York to London.

It was night when you left New York. It is now morning in London. You may or were not able to have slept on the plane.

What day is it?

Your body can have some serious trouble getting back on track, because our circadian rhythms( our biological clock) is thrown off from the geographic change.

My solution: work out( Step# 4 again ).

Studies have shown that a good perspiration can help change your circadian rhythm, which might help you adjust to the local time.[ 5 ]

If you’re able to, work out as soon as you get settled to help combat plane lag. I’ve personally find this to be super helpful in adjusting to the local hour.

FINALLY, HYDRATION.

Air travel dehydrates you.[ 5 ] The cabin’s air is environmentally controlled, with lower moisture than you find here on the ground.

Humidity on the good old fashioned Earth: 30 -6 0% Moisture in an average airplane: 10 -2 0%

Yeah…that 10 -2 0% is less than the Sahara desert.

On top of that, the pressurization of the cabin itself causes you to expel H2O.

Something something, physics. Something something, less water.

The low humidity and pressurise surrounding create a perfect scenario for you to lose lots of water.

And if you’re dehydrated, it can induce you tired, which can go back to that whole starvation and calories thing.

Drink water.

Travel WorkoutS and Healthy Eating Resources

I respect the road warrior, and I respect you for wanting to learn how to be healthy while you travel.

Here are some other Nerd Fitness resources you can check out if you want to dive deeper.

MY FAVORITE TRAVEL WORKOUTS :P TAGEND

The 20 -minute Hotel Room Workout The Playground Workout The Angry Birds Workout

RESOURCES FOR HEALTHY EATING WHILE TRAVELING:

Healthy Fast Food? Here are 8 Specific Alternative . The Beginner’s Guide to Intermittent Fasting. The Beginner’s Guide to Healthy Eating.

Above all else, Preserve momentum!

Whatever you’re currently working on improving in your life, you can continue working on that while traveling.

You merely fall off the wagon if you resign yourself to the fact that it’s impossible to stay fit while traveling!

Why not have the opposite mindset, and ask” How do I make this work for me ?”

Millions of people manage to stay healthy despite a hectic traveling schedule, and I want the same for you.

Here are some final tips-off to assist you in while traveling:

Travel day? Pack some healthy snacks with you in your container- apples and almonds are my go-to.

Going out to dinner with your company? Find the restaurant online, scour the menu, and” pre-order your dinner” in your intellect so you know what to order when you get there. Order the” meat+ veggie+ potato” alternative on the menu, and ask for doubled veggies instead. Aim for something like steak tips, or grilled chicken, salmon, etc.

Traveling with your family? Let them know that you’re making a concerted effort to eat most effective and that you’d like their support.

Going out with friends? Let’s say you’re going out with buddies, and you have no choice but to eat fried food and drink tons of brew( I dislike when that happens ).

Compensate by being extra diligent on the days before and after- no drive-thru meals , no late-night vending machine stops , no bad snacks while at the convention.

Pick your battles. Plan ahead. Make eating a priority.

Alright, that should help get you started. Now, your turn :P TAGEND

Do you travel for work?

Do you have a big adventure coming up? An upcoming vacation the summer months?

What fights do you have while on the road? What kind of questions do you have about staying in shape and traveling?

Leave a question in the comments and I’ll help in any way that I can.

-Steve

PS- I want to again remind you of our Online Coaching Program. If you live from hotel room to hotel room, constantly on the go, there are still some things you can maintain constant: your coach-and-four!

They can be right there with you, from any parts of the world, helping you make sure you reached your fitness aims. Click on the image below to learn more :P TAGEND

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All photo citations can be read right here.[ 6 ]

Footnotes( returns to text)

You can check out this study, and this study, and this study on the benefits of strength training. You can check on this study on protein and satiation, and this one on fiber. Again, embracing it. Here’s a study on sleep and appetite for you to check out. You can check out this study on exerting and circadian rhythms. The LA Times has a great article on the subject. Backpacker, Decathlon, Good Party, Newtonmas, Apples, Model Train Display, Califonia Dreamin , Angry Hulk , Dirt Bike.

Read more: nerdfitness.com