The Only New Year’s Countdown That Matters: Top WestAllen Kisses
Happy New Year Flash and WestAllen fandom! I needed a little pick-me-up, so here’s my ranking of each moment Barry and Iris have locked lips. Hopefully there’s even better kisses to come in the new year. Enjoy!
16. Welcome to Earth-2: This takes the lowest spot because it was brief, Earth-2 Iris didn’t know she wasn’t kissing her husband, and Barry is still too shocked to properly reciprocate. Funny but far from the best.
15. The New Rogues: Come on guys. What is this? KISS HARDER.
14. The Present: I love this little one because Iris is pushing her hair back so she can properly kiss Barry but he doesn’t even wait for her to finish. He leans in because he’s too eager and it’s utterly adorable.
13. Welcome to Earth-2: Pretty basic as far as kisses go, but we know this was the moment Barry realized he still loved Iris and was always going to, so it’s important for that reason.
12. Magenta: This is as pretty from an aesthetic perspective as it is romantic. The rose covering their lips is a nifty direction choice. It’s a little too formal for me though compared to their other kisses.
11. Welcome to Earth-2: NO ONE saw this one coming. It was such a surprise to have Iris push Barry up against a wall to kiss him senseless. As it’s their first kiss of Season Two and their first since their erased waterfront kiss, it deserves this spot on the list. It was also the perfect glimpse into Earth-2 WestAllen’s dynamic. Now we know how badass Detective West is thirsty for her adorkable CSI husband.
10. Monster: This reeks of marriage, despite how they only recently started to date. It’s casual and symbolic of how comfortable they’ve always been with
each other and how comfortable they are with this newfound
progression of their relationship. He’s kissing her with greasy food in her mouth! It doesn’t get more affectionate than that.
9. Paradox: I’ve made it known before that I was disappointed with this as Iris’s first kiss with Barry. It is beautiful visually, the music was lovely, but the context surrounding it with Iris and Barry choosing to move forward with their relationship without discussing the previous timeline taints the whole thing for me. I also think it was a lost opportunity to parallel their first porch kiss but not have Barry intentionally recreate it for Iris.
8. Magenta: Barry “Nope Not Enough” Allen. He doesn’t want to leave her! His smirk, her smitten expression, his hand on her neck. It’s perfectly amorous and picturesque.
7. The New Rogues: Can someone say husband and wife? I think Barry has wanted to walk into the West house and kiss Iris like that for years.
6. The Present: Appropriately slow and sensual given that it’s right after Barry gives Iris her gift of their new home and preludes her sexy coat drop which foreshadows a romantic, intimate Christmas Even together.
5. Flashpoint: Heart-wrenching and tragic. He’s kissing the skin right above her lip, which is not only sensual and loving, but also fitting because this isn’t his
Iris. It’s a bittersweet goodbye kiss. She was the one who
wanted to kiss him, and he didn’t want to take
from her before he left, so his reciprocation was just to kiss her back
gently so not to tempt her further.
4. The Present: I can’t decide what I love most about this: their noses nuzzling or the fact that Iris interrupted his romantic speech to her to kiss him impatiently or that this preceded an exchange of “I love you’s.”
3. The Race of His Life: It doesn’t get more tender, loving, and sweeter than this. I still wish this was their permanent first kiss. It was a generous acknowledgment and appreciation
of her love for him and her willingness to wait for him. It was a promise
that he still reciprocates that love. It was a pledge that he was going to come
back for her once he attained his peace. And it didn’t need to be heated: its simplicity enforced how genuine the love between them was, and they confirmed that love to each other verbally too.
2. The New Rogues: Do I really need to specify why this is the runner up? Finally Grant and Candice were allowed to showcase the sexual chemistry between them as Barry and Iris’s more lustful side. And they nailed it. This was sizzling from start-to-finish, only to be unfortunately interrupted and transformed from sexy to comedy lol.
1. Out of Time: Even after this kiss was spoiled, even after all the kisses we’ve been blessed with so far, this is still the ultimate first kiss and the best one I’ve seen between Barry and Iris. I can sense all the passion, longing, and urgency between them just by looking at their faces and how desperately they move against each other because the threat of death is near. It’s blatant indulgence and passion because
it’s just a release of everything they’ve been keeping in. The music and camerawork only emphasize how significant and epic this moment is for Barry and Iris. They have yet to top this.
“I beat you at Mario Kart and now you’re banishing me to the couch for the night?”
“Becca, I’m the king of Mario Kart-” Bucky answered pride seeping with every word he let slip from between his chapped lips.
“Daddy is a king!” Rebecca announced excitedly watching as her dad let the remote down over the coffee table and let his hands cross behind his head.
“Yeah he is!” Bucky mumbled happily, only to receive a remote thrown at him. He wasn’t expecting it, seeing as he had his eyes closed and was basking in the feeling of winning yet another Mario kart game. “What was that for?” Bucky mumbled, rubbing his stomach. His wife sitting beside him, but their daughter in between the two adults.
“Well, I just so happen to be the queen of Mario Kart, so, let’s see who’s the best.”
And like that, the man found himself smiling from ear to ear. His daughter jumped over the couch happy her mother had joined their father and daughter game night. Her mom would have always left the two to bond, but apparently her skills were being questions at Mario Kart since James thought he was the “king” of the game.
Non the less, Rebecca found her self latching herself to her dads neck, as she grabbed him down to her side. She was a giggling mess, while her dad kissed her cheek waiting for his wife to choose a character.
“Princess peach?” Bucky asked, questioning his wife, “She’s like the worst character.” Bucky mumbled to himself. As he picked Mario just to irk his wife. He shot her a smug look. While she blushed and slapped his metal shoulder, Picking Mario just to prove that he always saved Princess peach was very “smooth’ in his book.
"Rebecca, who’s side are you on?” Bucky asked, while the screen flashed with a countdown.
“Mommy!” Becca jumped over to her moms neck, smooching her cheek. Both girls laughed at Bucky’s expression. His daughter was almost always on his side. Considering he was always the fun parent, who always said yes to anything.
“We need to make a boy,” Bucky mumbled under his breath as he got ready to jumpstart his Kart.
It was all fun and games until Bucky dropped a bomb over his wife’s pink Kart, causing her to be last from the lack of regeneration span. Buchanan grinned, Mario making it to the finish line first in record time.
“Told you I was king.” Bucky bragged. Cracking his fingers, watching as his wife shoved the remote controller his way.
“Well, King Bucky, let’s see how the couch treats you tonight.” His wife angrily pushed, grabbing her daughter over her waist. Pushing the coco hair behind her daughters ear. The girl was well past her bed time, Becca’s head rested over her moment shoulder as the two adults bickered back and forth.
“What!” Bucky asked disbelief written over his features. He stood up too, wanting to understand his wife’s logic in this. The screen left unnoticed as the list of winners was plastered over the flat screen.
“Your sleeping on the couch tonight.” She answered simply. Turning around to walk back to her room.
“I beat you at Mario Kart and now you’re banishing me to the couch for the night?” Bucky asked disbelief laced with every word that was chocked out from his throat.
“Keep your voice down, your daughter is asleep.”
“Doll,” Bucky whined, seeing as she wasn’t answering him and walking to his daughters room. Trailing behind his wife.
Dean and Cas going to the mall to buy Cas some new clothes, and stopping beside a beaten-up old photo booth outside a video arcade. Cas asking what the photo booth is for, and Dean pulling open the curtain and perching on the stool inside, leaving enough room for Cas to sit next to him. Dean feeding coins into the machine and pointing to the screen, where a countdown is starting.
“It takes pictures of us,” he says.
“What are we supposed to do?” Cas asks, frowning as he looks over at Dean. Dean shrugging awkwardly and smiling just as the camera flashes - once, twice, three times, four times, in quick succession.
Cas leaning out of the photo booth to retrieve their prints, and catching sight of a big example photo on the side of the booth itself - a couple squashed close together, one kissing the other on the cheek.
Cas sitting back down in the photo booth and saying that he would like another go, please.
Dean grumbling but complying, giving the machine another couple of coins. The machine whirring and starting up again, the countdown flashing big on the screen. Cas facing forwards but casting a couple of quick, strategic glances at Dean’s profile.
The countdown reaching one and Cas turning, pressing his lips to Dean’s cheek just as the camera flashes once.
Dean turning to look at him in shock and Cas biting his lip as the camera flashes twice.
Dean breathing out in a rush and leaning forwards and kissing Cas on the lips, Cas’ eyes wide and surprised, as the camera flashes three times.
Cas closing his eyes and smiling into the kiss as the camera flashes for the last time.
“Stringwatcher, Stringwatcher, I have come here to know of my mother,” Miranda said.
Strings of a thousand colors were strewn about the room of the ancient temple. It was nearly impossible to see the walls through the dense network of strings. Each slid and twisted around the others with the sound of a grandparent’s gentle but persistant shush. The strings snaked out from a knot that was twice as tall as Miranda and its keeper.
“Good, I have been expecting you,” the Stringwatcher said. He traced his wrinkled fingertips across an intersection of strings: red, blue, and black. “The strings knew that we would cross paths today.”
“Then you know why I have come,” Miranda said as she dropped her pack on the ground. A month of dust from the road fell off it.
The Stringwatcher tisked, “Then you are foolish. The strings’ intentions are a mystery to me. They are only strings after all. No voice or mind to any of them,” he traced the red string back towards the knot, “I only know who they are and where they are going.”
Cool needles prickled up Miranda’s back. If the Stringwatcher could not tell her why her mother left their village, what good was coming here?
“Can you help me find my mother at least?” Miranda asked. “An insidious organization has taken claim to my village, and my mother is the only person capable of ridding us of their iron grip.”
The Stringwatcher walked a few paces away from Miranda’s string and found another junction with a crimson string trailing off in the distance. “She is no longer in the village.”
“Yes I know,” Miranda said, trying her hardest to not sound impatient. “Where has she gone?”
The Stringwatcher nodded and traced the crimson string through a mesh of others until the layers of thread blocked him from Miranda’s view.
“She has gone to Willhum City, accompanied by four others from villages that neighbored yours,” his voice soft and dampened by the mass of string between them.
“Thank you, Stringwatcher. I must leave with haste, but I shall return with an offering for your aid.” Miranda pulled her bag from the ground.
“What of your companion? Does he need to know where someone went as well?”
“I don’t know whom you are talking about. I came alone,” Miranda looked towards where her red string met with the Stringwatcher’s blue one. A black string had entwined itself with hers from the start of her journey and continued with her off into the rafters.
“I am sorry. I cannot tell the string’s intentions,” the Stringwatcher said.
Miranda turned, but she only caught a glimpse of her ‘companion.’ She screamed as a bag dropped over her head and powerful arms squeezed the air out of her.
Her hands were bound with rope, and her unconscious body was dragged out of the temple.
“Do not fear,” came the Stringwatcher’s voice from the back of the temple, barely above a whisper, “Your thread does not end here.”