#tikka to ride

[gcballet]

'Tikka To Ride' 1997

[reddwarfpoll]

Tikka to Ride: Following the encounter with their future selves, Kryten forbids the use of time travel but Lister wishes to go back in time to get some curry. However, the crew instead end up in Dallas, 1963 on the day John F. Kennedy is assassinated.

Kryten: The Red Dwarf crew intercepts a SOS distress call from the American Space cruiser "Nova 5", that has crashed on a moon. They find the only survivor is Kryten, an android butler, whose favorite TV show is 'Androids'.

Photo IDs by @what--the-helliot (also in reblogs)

[starbuggers-for-fun]

My favourite silly space show!

[benpaddon]

Red Dwarf VII: "Tikka to Ride" (original air date: January 17th 1997, BBC Two)

Y'all aren't ready for this conversation

[shelma32entertainment]

Red Dwarf | 7x01 | Tikka To Ride | REACTION

[odo-apologist]

[purplespacecats]

i'm going to london (england, not ontario) for a week and i'm very annoyed about it

bc my boss isn't bringing her electric wheelchair bc airlines break them all the time, so she'll be in her manual wheelchair that she can't move or get into or out of independently

so i'm like yeah it's not exciting i will be working every minute i'm there and not asleep

and people are like well i hope at least you get a chance to visit a pub!

and i'm like you do not understand i am working literally every minute

[emmahada]

gave me some smacks though in return

[t1red-twilight]

clueless

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, cursing

summary: dean being oblivious

word count: 0.6k

masterlist d. w. masterlist

dean couldn’t sit still. every couple of seconds he would glance over his shoulders, and his knee would not stop jumping up and down.

“hey, man. you looking for someone?” sam inquired playfully. he knew full well what dean was looking for; or, rather, who. you had not been back from grabbing takeout. dean was fully aware that you were taking longer than usual.

dean cleared his throat before he responded. “no, uh- i just-“ sam’s loud laughter cut him off. “what?”

sam raised his eyebrows, a mixture of shock and surprise appearing on his face. “oh, c’mon dude. you can’t be serious?” the look on dean’s face expressed the genuine confusion he had to sam’s comment. “really?” sam emphasized.

after doing another once-over of the motel lot, dean turned to face sam. “what the hell are you talking about?” the conversation was cut short when a car entered the dust road of the parking lot.

at first glance, it didn’t seem like it was you; but when the car screeched to a halt you stepped out of the car, saying your goodbyes to the driver and waving at dean and sam as you exited. you quickened your pace to a light jog up to meet them. “hey, guys,” you said as you held up a bag of takeout. “i got indian food. that alright?”

what you saw was something that you were always used to: dean’s (seemingly neon) green eyes sparkling, and a very small grin on his face. what you didn’t see (and what sam had) was dean immediately perk up when he saw you. his entire demeanor changed.

“yeah! that sounds great,” dean acknowledged. “who was that?” at the very least, sam could tell dean was trying to keep casualty in his tone. and, at the very least, his efforts were in vain to sam’s perception.

you waved off dean’s concern. “he just was willing to give me a ride back. nice guy, weird music taste.” you shrugged nonchalantly. “well i don’t know about you, but i’m going to go eat.”

dean tried to respond to you, but sam intervened rather quickly. “we’ll be in in a second,” he smiled rather tautly.

“okay, just hurry. it’s still hot out here.” you shrugged again and went into the hotel room.

dean tried to follow after you, but sam grabbed his forearm and jerked him back before he could.

the confusion that dean felt increased tenfold. “hey, i’m hungry. what are you doing?”

sam couldn’t believe what he was witnessing; how could dean be so unbelievably oblivious? “you have got to be kidding me. are you being totally serious right now?”

“yes? what are you talking about?” dean yanked his arm out of sam’s hold and raised his eyebrows in indignation.

sam raised his voice and answered, “i’m talking about you and-“ dean looked over his shoulder at the door just to make sure you hadn’t heard sam borderline yell.

“what about us? dude, i’m hungry. let’s just go eat.” dean’s tone held something that sam couldn’t place exactly. maybe that was a confession in and of itself? he had no clue, dean’s emotional constipation was exhausting to deal with sometimes.

the door opened and you popped your head out. “are you guys coming or what?”

“yeah! yeah, i’m-a-comin’,” dean said as he walked inside. sam could hear him ask something about the tikka masala as he trailed after you. he practically had heart eyes.

“okay, fine.” he muttered the next part under his breath: “you are such a dumbass.” maybe eventually you and dean would get together, or at the very least ‘bump uglies.’ but sam’s issues presently were dealing with dean’s dumbassery.

[nutoka]

I wonder if it ever drove Rimmer mad that he couldn’t eat while he was a soft-light hologram.

Cus back in his childhood, he couldn’t have food unless he answered astro-navigation questions correctly. So I wonder if he went bonkers with insecurity because since he didn’t fix the drive plate correctly, he was then being punished with no food nearly permanently.

Yes, Rimmer can have hologram food, but is it the same? Plus we barely see him eat any food in soft-light mode except for one sandwich.

Or the other explanation is that when Rimmer was alive since he’s not used to having food unless he’s actively hungry so he doesn’t eat at all. So when he died, there is no hunger therefore no excuse to eat really.

But even though he doesn’t need to eat himself, he bears in mind that others do. Like in Marooned when Rimmer listed out available foods for Lister to eat and told him to pace himself. Also in Tikka to Ride, when the crew had to set up camp for the night in Dallas and he told Kryten to get food (even though he did cook a dead man they found on the street).

Whenever Rimmer gets a body temporarily, the first thing he does is eat something. Maybe because of the pent up hunger over the years or something I dunno. So I think when he finally got a hard-light body, he probably thought his probation was released and was no longer getting punished.

The man probably has a complicated relationship with food all his life leading to eating disorders and such. But I don’t think we see him eat at all after becoming hard-light after Legion except for sipping tea and that’s it.

[gcballet]

Red Dwarf VII as Penguin Classics

<- |

[a-literal-toaster-wtf]

this behind the scenes image i found on pinterest is making me spiral because this is clearly s7s tikka to ride right. and yet rimmer’s wearing the short sleeve and bracers combo that isn’t seen beyond s4/5?!?.?! and he was not wearing that in the episode . are you telling me one of my FAVOURITE rimmer outfits could’ve made a comeback and jusf. didn’t. i’m foaming at the mouth this isn’t fair

[reddwarfpoll]

Round 1 Masterpost

Check here for the links to each match-up on the first round!

Holoship vs. Meltdown

Quarantine vs. Bodyswap

White Hole vs. Duct Soup

Confidence and Paranoia vs. Krytie TV

Queeg vs. Trojan

Polymorph vs. Back to Earth

Me2 vs. Back in the Red

Cured vs. Future Echoes

Beyond a Joke vs. Legion

Only the Good... vs. The Promised Land

Dear Dave vs. Emohawk: Polymorph II

Stoke Me a Clipper vs. Pete

The Inquisitor vs. Out of Time

Can of Worms vs. Timeslides

Ouroboros vs. Krysis

Balance of Power vs. Lemons

Give and Take vs. Entangled

Blue vs. Cassandra

Marooned vs. Nanarchy

Fathers and Suns vs. Stasis Leak

Officer Rimmer vs. Camille

Parallel Universe vs. The Last Day

Rimmerworld vs. Silliconia

Mechocracy vs. Dimension Jump

Back to Reality vs. Epideme

Better Than Life vs. Backwards

Gunmen of the Apocalypse vs. The Beginning

Psirens vs. M-Corp

The End vs. Skipper

Twentica vs. Timewave

Terrorform vs. Thanks for the Memory

DNA vs. Samsara

Tikka to Ride vs. Kryten

Demons and Angels vs. Justice vs. Waiting for God

[mortalityplays]

a fun fact about my relationship to Red Dwarf is that episode S07E01: Tikka to Ride is how I first learned about the kennedy assassination

[gabessquishytum]

What if Hob baby trapped Dream

The usual ‘Dream returns and a relationship develops - a REAL relationship after literal decades of reflection due to fishbowl’ (not necessarily self-analysis bc this is Dream)

It takes time, sure. Months of tiptoeing around each other. Finally, though, finally they’re in Hob’s flat and maybe Hob is cooking (‘I do not require food’ ‘I know but you’re a guest and a friend and you helped cook it, you get to enjoy our work’) and something happens. A tiny grease fire, a knife that flips unexpectedly, a too hot pan jostled, and Hob steps in to protect Dream. it's small and reflexive for Hob, but Dream, who rarely has had anyone treat him like he is worth protecting even if the danger is but a minor inconvenience, it hits. He's finally forced to admit to himself He's Smitten. Utterly, completely, you've lied to yourself and buried your feelings so long and now they're unearthed and you're crushed by them Gone on Hob Gadling in Love.

In Dream fashion this comes to a head when Hob properly serves them both, sits down, cheers! and Dream looks ready to sob over his paneer tikka. Hob is hearing alarms 'sorry, hey, you don't have to eat?? I thought it'd be an experience yeah? I swear it's fine if you don’t (please for the love of god don’t leave???)' but Dream chokes out 'no. this. presentation. it's full of you… your dedication…

…your love.'

Again alarm bells for Hob, but Dream thanks him, lightly touches Hob's hand with his fingertips oh so timid, and Hob barely breathes out 'well… yeah' NOT ELOQUENT but as always so careful and sincere and - dammit - he’s HOPEFUL but he’s also a man who’s learned

and Dream POUNCES

it's messy. too eager and god if the floor isn't going to be the end of Hob's ump-teenth rebuilt spine, but after a frantic disrobe Dream is manifesting a cunt and riding Hob hard. Hob will deal with the tailbone bruising if it means he gets to feel Dream around him, holding Hob's chest hair for dear life, clenching his thighs while Hob pumps into him like he's giving Dream life support

Hob is babbling of course, all manner of praise and attention and teeth-gnashing possessive WANT. Dream clenches and whines so prettily resting on Hob’s hips and around Hob’s solid thighs. At some point whatever Hob says gets a semi coherent reply. One soft '…please'. Hob loses what restraint he had and repeats the apparently high key possessive - take you, keep you, everyone should know youre mine youre mine - primal love letters Hob’s had at the back of his brain. Hob will hunt anyone down who even looks at Dream sideways. He has nothing but time and zeal and the same passion to show Dream what life has to offer, the same passion he’s had since 1389, the carefully tended kindness and the never-truly-gone devotion for what Hob calls His.

and Dream. poor Dream who has had loyalty but so very little FREE devotion from anyone who could choose to leave, who never HAD to stay - especially now that Hob knows who gave him immortality and STILL wants Dream. Even with all his eons of existence, Hob has mortal experience on his side so eventually Dream is nearly weeping, no reprieve, begging at this point for Hob to ‘let everyone know’ Dream is Hob’s Hob’s Hob’s

Hob fingers Dream’s clit again in time with two three five more thrusts and it’s perfect yet too much, the clench the keening the hands clawing Hob’s chest, the revelation of *having* after loving this being from a distance. Loving them in PERSON after centuries? Neither of them were prepared

Needless to say they spend a good 15 minutes on the too-hard floor before Hob convinces Dream that he can’t live on Hob’s chest and in Hob’s clavicle forever, to let him pull out (HUGE dramatic complaint) and take care of Dream, who does so now with the best attempt at luxuriating while pouting on bare oak flooring one could hope for.

Hob does a quick self clean up, brings a towel and a kiss for Dream, is so tender, then throws the towel in the corner, carries Dream to his bed while Dream reclaims his spot in the crook of Hob’s neck and. Fuck. Hob was so caught up that he hadn’t even thought about what if Dream would be done here after this. Would he leave now that everything is settled? Hob was willing to be Dream’s friend - still is - but tonight would take a while to get over, if he ever could

(he would, he tells himself, he’s not losing him again, he can do this).

Hell if he isn’t having a breakdown. Tomorrow though. That’s for tomorrow.

Hob wants to keep Dream so so much, he wants his stories and his smiles and his tantrums and his conflicts. He wants Dream. But Hob collects himself (he tries) while approaching the bed, ready for distance, indifference, absence even but

There he is.

Dream

Dream sees Hob.

Blinks like a cat.

Slowly reaching his hand towards Hob with the smallest, most delicate smile. No one would know but Hob. But Hob has spent a lifetime (several) memorizing that mouth. He knows. He mentally short circuits. He manages to say a form of Thanks in 5 different languages then

he relaxes onto the mattress and, after arranging the blankets just so, feeling Dream hesitate, Hob settles with confidence, taking his space in bed, pulls Dream in, precious, protected, somewhat known - he hopes for more - so after possibly 10 minutes or an hour he feels Dream relax like an exhale into Hob’s solid chest. Hob would’ve gladly waited through another 6 lifetimes. He’s a patient man. Dedicated.

He is also entirely in love.

But the thing most intrinsic to Hob is

Well

Things

Twofold

Yes he’s patient. He has learned patience and he’s damn good at it.

…He’s also, after all these years, still a bit of a bastard

…

After all this time. All these misunderstandings. All this too goddamn long chance to love one another wholly. All this uncertainty if Dream will return - if he CAN return! If Dream is even safe and if anyone can take care of him now or then or ever. Not as well as Hob would, surely. Perhaps he *will* let everyone know Dream is his

…

After all that dirty talk while Dream rode him like that… begged and clenched and moaned… Hob wonders

Next few times, desperate and sweet and, god, clinging to Hob like he’s the center of gravity…?

There’s room for a nursery after all

…

As in. Well. Maybe, just maybe, if there was something more substantial, something to anchor Dream, then Dream might be more inclined to allow himself to be pampered, be loved, be free to relax

…to be adored

…

Hob has seen Dream’s good and bad, his insecurities and his arrogance in presumed power, and his deep instinct to care with the whole of his being. He deserves reciprocation - truly, he is driven by a need to create, to nurture!

..then again, Dream too often manages to find himself at his lowest and determine that it means he should leave, bury himself in work and denial. Isolate and repeat the cycle when he could have been given softness and kindness like he should have always. So many of Dream’s creations adore him, yet he can’t accept it. Dream thinks work is the truest sign of care and doesn’t grasp stopping to Be Present

Maybe next time Dream stays with Hob, well, if Dream won’t allow himself to take a step back on his own, Hob can… encourage it

…

Plant the seed, if you will

…

After all

Dream is so good with kids

- 🎱 anon

Omg, yesterday we had Dream babytrapping Hob. So today we gotta have Hob babytrapping Dream. Balanced, as all things should be.

I'm also having a whole fucking moment about the way you write, here. It's absolutely beautiful and you totally managed to persuade me that Hob is doing a good thing. I'm questioning my moral compass as I read it. I like that very very much.

I just love this unhinged manifestation of Hob’s love and adoration of Dream. I'm sure he's also thinking "how much could I really do without him knowing and consenting? if he wanted to stop me he could stop me, he's practically all powerful". And how could his love possibly do anything to hurt Dream? A child would be such a wonderful thing, wouldn't it? A new era for the dreaming, a cementing of their relationship.

Dream can't run away if he's carrying Hob’s child with him. It's a terrible thought - Hob hates himself for it. He's not that kind of man anymore, at least he thought he wasn't. Maybe it's true, maybe he never really changed. Maybe he'll always be greedy for Dream’s love.

If Hob could dream a child into his beloved, he'd do it in a heartbeat. He thinks about it, often. Every night. Curled around Dream, one hand over where his womb would be. He closes his eyes tightly. Just dreams it, as quietly as he can. It's not like thinking, dreaming about it will do any harm.

Right?

(The seed is planted. Sprouting. Glowing and growing. You can't dream a baby into existence, not usually.

But then, there's nothing usual about Dream of the Endless. Or the baby in his womb.)

[shadowqueenjude]

Day 4 of @gwynweekofficial Adventure

I wrote a little Targwyn! May or may not continue this depending on the response to this.

Premise: With Elain and Lucien off traversing through the continent fighting death gods and riding pegasi, Nesta had regained her original position as Emissary to the Night Court. She was probably a terrible choice given how often she pissed people off, but with Mor gone to Vallahan, she was the only remaining member of the Night Court with any experience in politics. Rhysand and Feyre had been banned once more from Summer, likely as a result of Tamlin informing Tarquin of Rhysand’s frequent unwelcome visits to Spring, Cassian and Azriel were hopeless in that department, and Amren didn’t give a shit. When Nesta reaches out to Tarquin to repair relationships damaged by her sister and her mate, Gwyn and Emerie take the opportunity to brave the world outside Night for the first time in ages.

Gwyn took a deep breath and tried not to panic.

This was her first trip outside of the Night Court since the fateful incident. The one which had turned her life upside down. The one where she had failed and lost, again and again. Which led to her running to the library to hide away.

Yet without that incident, she would’ve never wound up in Night. She would’ve never met her best friends Nesta and Emerie. She would’ve never become a Carynthian.

She would’ve never become a Valkyrie.

Deep breaths. Gwyn concentrated on her breathing. In. out. She took in the scents of her surroundings. Nesta’s lavender scents. Emerie’s mix of various spices.

You are not strong enough for this.

I take that thought and let it go. I am strong. Stronger than my demons, stronger than my past. We all are.

Gwyn placed one of her hands in Nesta’s and the other in Emerie’s, opening her eyes with a smile. “I can’t wait to see the world I missed out on.”

They were all three of them in blue dresses to honor the Summer Court. Nesta wore a shimmering silvery dress that matched the color of her eyes, with a large, billowing skirt with lacy butterflies attached to it that looked like something a queen would wear to a royal ball. A silver and diamond tiara adorned her braided hair while diamond and emerald jewelry hung around her neck, her wrists, and her fingers.

Gwyn was in a teal dress which also matched her eyes; it was a long, sleeveless dress with a highly ruffled skirt that went down to the floor; it gave her the look of a mermaid. Enormous sapphires sparkled from the necklace she had on, a gift from Amren to Nesta which Nesta had passed on to Gwyn, and her sapphire heart studs looked adorable on her, as well as her bracelet of seashells. Her fiery hair had been tied up in a chignon bun, a tanzanite tiara glittering from her head.

Emerie was in a navy blue dress that complemented her skin very well. The dress was off-shoulder and there was a slit on one side that cut to mid-thigh. Aside from that, the dress was rather plain; it was the jewelry that made it look spectacular. Incredible gold jewelry with amethyst and garnet gemstones, complete with a man tikka that somewhat resembled an invoking stone were it not for its deep red color. Amethyst was for Emerie’s favorite color, royal purple. The garnet was a nod to Emerie’s Illyrian heritage, which she had recently decided to embrace.

Together, they looked like High Ladies. Gwyn laughed when they’d all settled down in the carriage, saying, “We look like we’re headed towards our own coronations.”

Nesta snorted, Emerie smirking on her other side. “Maybe we would all be dressing like this had I accepted Eris’s proposal.”

“Well, technically you still can,” Emerie mused.

Gwyn gasped. “Em!”

“What? Like Eris wouldn’t take her, rejected proposal or not? I mean, she’s Nesta. Besides, the Autumn Court sounds so cool.”

Gwyn shook her head emphatically. “Yes, but Nesta loves Cassian. Nothing can equal that.”

Nesta chose that moment to speak. “Do I?”

Gwyn blinked. “Sweetie…we attended your mating ceremony. We were all there. You were glowing then.”

Nesta sighed. “Yes, but now…now I’m having some doubts. Perhaps this time away from him will help me get clarity.”

Gwyn and Emerie exchanged concerned glances but did not push. They’d have plenty of time to get the truth out of Nesta anyway.

Gwyn was gently shaken awake when the carriage arrived before the Summer Court palace. Gwyn stared in awe.

The palace was hewn from light brown stone upon a mountain-island floating in a bay the shape of a crescent. The floating lantern lights that lit up the surrounding city gave the whole place an ethereal glow. Guards at the entrance opened the sea-glass doors to them as they walked in. They must have been waiting for them.

Her dress suddenly felt plain before the magnificence of this castle. The man who lived here had to be very powerful, and not happy with their ruler at all. Gwyn gulped, feeling the nerves settle in. Her hands shook slightly.

“Hey.” Nesta grabbed her wrist. “We’re here. We’re with you.”

Emerie nodded grimly, gripping her other hand. “If you want to leave, I’ll escort you out while Nesta carries on the conversation.” Gwyn nodded. “I am the rock against which the surf crashes,” she whispered. Since there was an enormous ocean near them, it felt appropriate.

“Nothing can break us,” Nesta and Emerie answered fiercely.

Gwyn felt nothing but calm as they were escorted to a patio to wait for Tarquin and his most trusted advisors. Being near the sea calmed her too. She breathed in the sea salt air, stared at the powerful body of water that exuded possibilities.

“Ladies.” Gwyn looked up, her breath catching in her throat. The trio was heavenly beautiful, their dark skin in stark contrast with their brilliant turquoise eyes and silvery white hair. The one in the middle emanated power, and Gwyn instantly knew he was the High Lord. The woman to his right stared them down suspiciously.

They all three of them scrambled out of their chairs to bow. “High Lord,” Nesta said reverently, bowing deeply.

The male waved her off. “Please call me Tarquin. High Lord is far too formal.”

“High Lord!” The lady snapped, pulling him aside. She hissed something in Tarquin’s ear that typical High Fae hearing wouldn’t be able to catch, but her water nymph blood gave her a built-in sonar system that allowed her to catch what others wouldn’t be able to.

“You can’t trust these folk. Remember what happened last time?”

“These are not Rhysand’s inner circle members, Cresseida.”

“No,” Cresseida retorted. “They’re his lackeys.”

“We are not Rhysand’s lackeys,” Gwyn called loudly. Both Cresseida and Tarquin looked back at her in surprise. Nesta and Emerie turned towards her too.

“You heard that?” Tarquin asked, intrigued. Gwyn smiled. “Super hearing is one of my many talents.”

Cresseida raised a brow. “Oh? Then pray tell, what are your other talents?”

Gwyn shrugged, her smile transforming into a grin. “Allow me to introduce myself more formally. Gwyneth Berdara. Carynthian. Priestess. Valkyrie. How do you do?”

Murmuring broke out amongst the trio. “Valkyrie?” The other male asked. “Last we heard, the Valkyries were no more.”

Nesta stepped forward. “With the help of Gwyn’s research, we’ve revived it.” Gwyn turned to Nesta, beaming. “Nesta is the new leader of the Valkyries. She is also the emissary to the Night Court, but let me tell you, she’s had her fair share of spats with Rhysand.”

Nesta nodded. “Most of the time, we do not see eye to eye. We hate each other, but we have an understanding not to get in each other’s way. He is too proud to come and try to make peace here, so he has sent me in his stead.” Nesta inclined her head at Tarquin. “We met. At the High Lord’s meeting. Remember?”

Gwyn did not know what happened at this meeting, but Nesta must have made a big impact there if the Summer Court trio was now looking at them with more respect.

“Here’s the deal, then,” Cresseida said. “Kill Rhysand, and we will consider an alliance with you.”

The male on the far left gasped, and Tarquin glared at her reproachfully. Nesta steepled her fingers before her. “I’m…not sure I will be able to do that.”

“Then get out,” Cresseida snapped, and she flung her hand in Nesta’s direction.

“Don’t touch my friend!” Gwyn shrieked, stepping in front of Nesta, who had frozen. She closed her eyes, bracing for impact.

Which didn’t come. Gwyn opened her eyes, and to her amazement, a watery barrier resembling a shield had formed in front of her and Nesta. Everyone was staring at her. She blinked.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” she muttered, dropping her hand. The shield disappeared. Tarquin laughed softly, and Gwyn’s eyes snapped to his. There was appreciation there, perhaps because she had protected her friend instinctively, and dare she say some affection?

“You’re of Summer Blood,” Tarquin observed. “Interesting.”

Gwyn blinked, surprise overtaking her. “I-I didn’t know. I never knew my father.”

Tarquin took a few steps towards her. “Would you like to stay awhile and learn to control your magic?”

Gwyn’s mouth dropped open before she remembered to control herself and closed it. A High Lord offering to teach her magic? She couldn’t help it; she could feel her face turning as red as her hair.

She stammered “I- wow, you would really-I mean yes, thank you so much.”

Tarquin gave her that adorable soft smile again. “You are most welcome, Gwyneth Berdara.”