Author's Note: These drabbles explore all ten possible pairings for the five Emotions in Inside Out. I've ranked them from 1 to 10, 1 being my OTP and 10 referring to the two Emotions I think are least compatible, and these ratings are reflected in the nature of the drabble. Of course, if your opinion differs, that's absolutely fine – this is just my own interpretation of the characters. Let me know what you think of the writing and whether or not you agree with the ranking!
The drabbles contain spoilers for the film and are also rated T just to be safe. Feanger in particular is rather steamy. You have been warned.
The Way I Feel About You
BrickTear/AngryTears
Rank: 10
It wasn't unusual for Sadness to screw up.
Maybe she'd be unloading boxes from the Train of Thought and trip up, scattering daydreams across the floor. Maybe she'd absent-mindedly lean on a button, allowing a tear to leak from Riley's eye in front of the bullies, exposing all her weaknesses. Maybe she'd be overcome with nostalgia in the middle of a dream that happened to be set in Minnesota, waking Riley up and dragging the Emotions from their beds for no reason. They all scolded her to some extent, but it was the moment when Joy and Fear and Disgust had forgiven her and disappeared that Sadness dreaded the most.
It wasn't unusual for Anger to lose his temper.
"What do you think you're doing, you crazy skirt? You're making a fool of yourself!" And then it would begin – the beating, everywhere, from all angles, while Sadness cowered and cried and begged him to stop. Finally, finally, once the rage had cooled, he'd regard her, witnessing the damage he could do, and he'd glance down at his hands, unclench those hateful fists, pick her up, tell her he was sorry, he didn't mean it, he couldn't help it, he loved her, he loved her for putting up with a thug like him, and she didn't need to tell anyone about this, did she?
It wasn't unusual for Sadness to keep her mouth shut and stay on the side-lines.
No-one noticed the bruises. Most of the dark patches on her chest were well-concealed by her cosy knitted jumper. It was when he got really mad and struck the face and left it mottled and purple that things were a bit more difficult. But the Emotions were pretty resilient; it only took about a day for injuries to heal, if that. So on those occasions, she hid in her room, surrounded by the troll dolls that for years were her only friends (especially since Riley lost hers when she was five), waiting for the marks to fade away. No-one asked for her. Riley rarely needed her.
It wasn't unusual to go a whole day without seeing Sadness.
Late one afternoon, the blue lump felt unusually confident and decided she could handle going back out there. She traipsed down the ramp, and then she saw him, the fire brick who claimed to love her, grabbing the controls and screaming at the top of his lungs because some kid had barged into Riley and made her drop her books. Sadness took one look at those hands on the levers, those stubby little hands that had been pummelling her less than twenty-four hours earlier … and she collapsed, hitting the floor face-first. Joy immediately rushed over, rolled the miserable lump onto her back and asked if she was all right. Sadness sat up, swallowed, said she was fine, just over-reacting, and went to stand in her little circle, all on her own, wiping the tears from her cheeks, trying to pull herself together. No-one questioned it.
It wasn't unusual to see Sadness cry.
Disgustness
Rank: 9
Sometimes Sadness wondered why she bothered.
Of course, Disgust could hardly get rid of the fellow Emotion. They were trapped in Headquarters together, with no way in and no way out. If putting up with each other was already a necessary part of Riley's life, why did Disgust make herself suffer further by willingly hanging out with Sadness more than any other Emotion? And why did the snarky green gal have to be so mean?
She was always criticising something about Sadness – her frumpy clothes, her greasy hair, her too-small eyes. If ever the teardrop-shaped woman's lip began to wobble, her cool counterpart would give her a hug and explain that it was all for her own good. People would never take her seriously if she didn't pay attention to her image. "Now stop crying – they prey on that."
Who "they" were, Sadness didn't fully understand. However, she glimpsed Disgust's words in action whenever the fashionista sashayed up to the control panel, examined something new and instantly flicked it away from Riley, to sighs of relief from her co-workers. Maybe, because she was so darn beautiful and so darn persistent, the others trusted her judgement. And maybe, because Sadness was plain and non-confrontational, she was merely pushed aside when she attempted to speak up.
The message was clear: if you want something done, be pretty and vicious and you'll soon get your way. Disgust made sure to drum it into her little friend.
But one day, Sadness reached her limit. It was a while after the Incident, when Joy had convinced the others that her frumpy friend had a lot to offer Riley. At least, Fear and Anger were convinced. Disgust was still sneering at Sadness's choice of attire, telling her those shoes made her legs look fat, and she'd just had enough of it all. "Leave me alone!" she barked. "I'm not your special project. I'm not something to play with and poke at and improve. And I can't be the sort of Emotion you want me to be. We're different; that's why everyone works so well together. So just stop trying to make me your toy, because you'll never succeed."
Headquarters fell silent, and the look Disgust gave her was the look of a wicked queen glancing out the castle window to find a mob of emaciated peasants armed with torches and pitchforks. It was the look of power snatched away.
It was the look of defeat.
BrickStar
Rank: 8
Anger was very hard to please. Sunshine? It was too bright and too hot. Rainbows? There was always a tree or building blocking the view, and Riley was always missing out. Hockey? Maybe if the other team would cut down on all the cheating – and it WAS cheating – he could enjoy it more.
He thought he was immune to happiness until she showed him otherwise.
Joy was a remarkable woman. She could find the fun in any situation. She could convince Anger that the sun coming out was a good thing after all that rain, that there would always be another rainbow next time, that hockey might be about more than just winning. Joy was probably the only Emotion who could make him smile.
But that was before the Incident.
And this was most definitely after.
Anger was used to dealing with situations that were everyone else's fault. He had to fix the mess a classmate had made, stand up for Riley in front of her nagging parents, speak up when the pre-teen was shot down. But the idea bulb driving Riley to run away – that was all his fault. Fear might have failed to stop him, and Disgust might have given the plan her reluctant approval, but that wasn't enough to blame them, not this time. It was all Anger's fault.
Fear and Disgust, being the good friends they were, refused to tell Joy who was responsible. Later that week, Anger got her alone and confessed. He explained why he thought it seemed like a good idea at the time, and Joy nodded and listened. Although she patted his head and told him there was nothing to forgive, there was still a shift in their relationship. When the new console was plugged in, Joy was a lot more relaxed about letting the others drive it, except when Anger had something to say. Instead of starting a friendly argument with Meg, for example, Joy would leap in and plaster a smile on Riley's face, smoothing over the cracks.
Perhaps he should have fought a little harder. Riley wasn't being treated the way she deserved to be. She was taking their trash lying down. That definitely wasn't fair! But he didn't see the use in lashing out anymore. It could take months, even years, before the leader trusted Anger with anything besides competitive hockey games. He just had to simmer down, ride this out and not let the guilt get to him too much.
I'm sorry, Riley.
I'm sorry, Joy.
StarNerve/NerveStar
Rank: 7
Fear was great at finding problems, but not so good at finding solutions. He could tell you all the possible calamities that might result from living in San Francisco: earthquakes, meteor strikes, getting called on by the teacher. But when he tried to remember all the ways to survive such instances (duck, cover, hold on; stay in your homes; pay attention in class), the words would spin around his head, faster and faster, confusing him more and more, never letting him escape the vicious circle of panic.
He was glad to have her there to calm him down. All she had to do was smile and say that earthquakes were rare, meteor strikes were even rarer, and if Riley ever had to answer a question no-one was listening to, they should just assume the question was multiple choice and say the answer was C. That was enough to send his own frantic Train of Thought screeching to a halt before setting off again at a much calmer pace.
Joy could work miracles.
But Fear never felt he was truly worthy of her.
Whatever she was doing, she glowed, brighter than the Sun. Standing next to her, he was tainted in comparison, the kind of thing that people gloss over, like a homeless person sleeping outside a popular tourist attraction. If they were a married couple, people would say, "What a wonderful lady! Shame about her husband. She could do so much better."
What was the problem? Simple – he was a coward. Joy was full of great ideas to make new friends or new memories. Fear had issues with all of them. The woman was under the erroneous assumption that the only way to truly live was to do one thing every day that scared you. What a ridiculous notion! The point of feeling scared was to stop you doing things, especially where there was a very real risk of death or injury.
That was why he strongly objected to Joy's suggestion of a charity skydive. Couldn't Riley just make a donation without killing herself? The yellow starburst tried to explain that it wasn't only about the charity, it was an excuse to do something exciting and fun. He countered that there was nothing fun about plummeting to the ground at speed.
Luckily, Riley's parents refused to let her do it. Joy went into a sulk and gave Fear the silent treatment for a whole week. Whenever her head turned his way, his eyes fell to the floor. He wasn't worthy of her. He was always disappointing her, dulling her sparkle with a bad mood. He couldn't help it.
Given the choice between letting Joy have her way and keeping Riley safe, Riley would win every time.
That was why, at the end of the day, Fear knew in his heart that he and Joy would never work.
Disanger/Brickoli
Rank: 6
"I hate you! You make me sick!"
"Oh, yeah? Well, the feeling's mutual, missy!"
"I wish you'd just crawl in a hole and DIE already!"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"I would, 'cause then you'd be in Hell, where you belong!"
"I'M ALREADY THERE!"
She'd gasp, smack him and run away. He'd stare after her, the reason for their squabbling forgotten long ago. Fiery rage would soon be replaced by cold, numbing regret.
Five minutes later, he'd knock on her door, clutching a hastily-scribbled letter of apology, and she'd sigh and invite him in. Within twenty seconds, they'd be making out. Passionately. Too passionately for words.
It was one of life's great mysteries: How could two individuals hate each other so much and love each other so much all at the same time? Each Emotion had a different view of the situation. Sadness believed it was true love, but they just needed to work through some disagreements, the same way Riley's parents yelled at each other sometimes – according to her, arguments were a natural part of any relationship. Fear refused to accept that you could love someone who made you sick, instead creating a pile of emergency plans to break them up, all of which ended in his embarrassment. Joy wondered if it was simply an elaborate prank, and any second now someone would leap out from behind a wall and yell, "BAZINGA!"
Whatever the truth of the matter, they left Disgust and Anger to it. If the couple ever wanted their help, they'd be there, because they were friends. For now, though, it was more fun to watch the red and the green burn together.
NervousTears/NerveTears/TearNerve
Rank: 5
It sounded nonsensical for a loved one to make you so happy by making you so miserable. And yet, that was the reality of Sadness and Fear's relationship. It was why he was the only Emotion who pulled Sadness to safety when she was dangling from the window ledge trying to get back into Headquarters and everyone else was distracted by Joy.
That didn't mean he enjoyed being sad – far from it. Being sad was horrible, like a weight dragging you to the floor, like a blindfold that stopped you seeing the way forward, like a layer of dirt that clung to your skin. It meant he appreciated having Sadness there to listen to his problems. Because boy, did he have problems.
If Sadness was the least respected Emotion, Fear came a close second. He could blame it all on Frozen – and its lines such as, "Fear will be your enemy" – though the problem existed long before that annoying film came out. He would not be shaken from the belief that ultra-cautious was the best way to be; it made Riley aware of her surroundings, and thus less likely to hurt herself. The only downside was that it meant missing out on certain adventures, causing Riley an untold amount of unhappiness, and no-one wanted Riley to be unhappy.
He needed to get past the razor-sharp glares and cutting remarks, but it wasn't easy. He needed to stay strong for Riley's sake, but it wasn't easy. Fear frequently felt like he was the only one who fully comprehended how dangerous the world could be. He was the only person who accepted brief misery as the fitting price to pay for staying alive. He wished the others would just try seeing things through his eyes for once.
Thankfully, Sadness did.
They got into a little routine. As Riley drifted off to sleep, he'd send his sort-of girlfriend a sign – usually tapping his feet a certain number of times, or making a gesture while the others were distracted. When the message was received and understood, they'd convene in Sadness's room and nestle among her enormous collection of troll dolls, and Fear would tell her why he had a bad day. He would complain about his co-workers, he would say the things he wouldn't dare to admit to their faces (especially not Anger's face), and Sadness would prompt him in all the right places.
In return, she would tell him her woes. She would tell him how boring it was standing in the Circle of Sadness, how uninteresting it was to re-read Long-Term Memory Retrieval: Volume 47 for the eleventh time, how all her good ideas were ignored simply because of who she was. By morning, the floor would be carpeted in tissues.
Whenever one of them was distressed, the other was there. The best times they had were when they cried on each other's shoulders and let it all out. The company was cleansing, lifting the weight, taking away the blindfold, washing away the grime of sorrow to let the sunlight in once more. Thanks to Sadness, Fear began to better understand that quote from one of Riley's new favourite novels: "Life damages us, every one. We can't escape that damage. But now, I am learning this: We can be mended. We mend each other."
Feanger
Rank: 4
"Don't touch me."
If Fear had been given a dime for every time Anger had said those words to him, he'd have enough money to buy a yacht. He couldn't help clinging on to the fire brick – he'd been a jumpy sort of person since his arrival in Headquarters, and something about that warm red lump had the power to reassure him that everything would be all right. Unfortunately, Anger was the least touchy-feely person on the planet, and he'd made that quite clear on numerous occasions.
Of course, that was only in public.
Every Saturday night, when neither Emotion was on Dream Duty, Fear would peek out, check the coast was clear and tiptoe towards Anger's bedroom. Behind closed doors, he could touch Anger as much as he wanted. Shoes were kicked off by the door. The ties slid away next, followed by the shirts, followed by the belts and trousers. And then they united. Limbs tangled beneath the sheets. Hands went everywhere. No body part went untouched by kisses. It was hot and wet and messy and terrifying and beautiful, all at the same time.
Joy and Sadness and Disgust knew nothing of these rendezvous. They might edge away from them at work and look at them with revulsion – or worse, they might offer their congratulations and make a big fuss over them every Valentine's Day. Fear dreaded the former, while Anger despised the latter.
Thus, it was their little secret.
LemonLime
Rank: 3
Joy and Disgust disagreed on many subjects.
Was Riley's time well-spent reading fashion magazines? Disgust insisted that it was, since fashion was always the passion of the cool girls, and didn't Joy want Riley to be cool? To this, Joy would have to concede that yes, being cool was all well and good, but schoolwork mattered just as much, maybe more, and there was no need for an astronaut to know which shade of lipstick complimented her eyes. "What about video calls back to base?" Disgust flung back. "We want Riley to look her best." This was met with a muttered, "Touché."
Were parents cool or uncool? Riley was growing up, sure, but Joy saw the importance of remaining on friendly terms with Mom and Dad – they had allowances and drivers' licences, and thus they would be invaluable for getting her out of trouble in a pinch. By contrast, Disgust wanted to stay as far away from those adults as possible. Monkey noises were so last year, and what self-respecting person still used, "Fo' sheezy" in a conversation? The only things parents were good for was embarrassing their kids.
Was the Five-Second Rule a good rule to live by? Disgust thought the logic was stupid in assuming that just because a grape touched the ground for less than five seconds, it was safe to eat. It didn't matter if it was five seconds or five months; the ground was the ground, and therefore dirty, and therefore not safe for human consumption. Joy disagreed – what mattered more was what you ate, and grapes were a heck of a lot better for you than broccoli, or boogers, or dog food…
But it was all in good fun, and the tension between them never hung around for long. Behind the bickering, there was always something more – an undercurrent of affection, an unspoken promise to stick around whatever happened. They were united by a common goal, to keep Riley happy and ensure she had a well-developed personality. Achieving that goal meant compromising here and there, an art they had mastered over the past twelve years.
It was the differences of opinion on the little things that proved how right they were for each other. The optimist and the cynic had more to talk about. The carefree and the careful kept each other in check.
They say opposites attract, and nowhere was that more true than in the case of Joy and Disgust.
Joyness/BitterSweet
Rank: 2
No-one could deny how much they'd been through.
Having been ejected from Headquarters along with Riley's core memories, they'd watched the decimation of the Islands of Personality, lost themselves in Long-Term Memory, seen the marvels of Imagination Land, endured the horrors of the Subconscious, interrupted the work of Dream Productions, ridden on the Train of Thought, fallen into the Memory Dump and bid farewell to an imaginary friend. You know, the usual trials and tribulations of being an Emotion.
No-one could deny how much they'd changed.
Joy spoke little of her exploits, and her pals never pressed her for details. For weeks afterwards, she stood back from the console, letting the others drive for much longer than she'd permitted in the past. Whenever a multi-coloured core memory emerged, and there was no yellow to be seen, she didn't panic the way she had before. She accepted it. She accepted the importance of diversity, almost without question. But the biggest difference to the old way of things was the way she and Sadness behaved in each other's company. Joy was just as willing to joke around with the blue-skinned one as before, but this time her companion offered a smile in return, even laughed back. Likewise, Joy opened up more to Sadness than to Fear or Disgust or Anger, and whenever the topic of conversation strayed towards Bing Bong, they would hug each other and never let go until the tears had completely run dry.
Along with this, Sadness's confidence had grown since she'd basically saved Riley's life. Gone was the meek little girl who stood in her circle watching from afar. Now she was part of the action, getting to know Riley better, making up for lost time. She was firm, almost sassy, in her dealings with the Emotions who had been left behind while she gallivanted through Mind World. Once, she managed to stop Anger exploding with nothing more than a few choice words, and (once the starburst got over her laughing fit) Joy couldn't have been prouder.
No-one could deny the strength of their feelings for each other.
Their relationship progressed slowly. A pat on the back here. A soft punch to the arm there. Thanks to Joy's clever timing, these moments went unnoticed. Three months after the Incident, kisses began to be stolen on Dream Duty, quickly snatched and quickly ended, before another could barge in and kill the mood.
One night, they were careless, and they didn't realise Anger was there until he bellowed, "YES! You owe me, Fear! You owe me big time!" They hadn't had a moment's peace since; if Anger wasn't singing about them sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G, Disgust would be dropping innuendos all over the place, and Fear would be reminding them to focus on watching the screen, not each other. At the end of the day, it didn't matter in the slightest. They could put up with the teasing as long as they had each other.
No-one could deny the love between them.
Disear/Rawcoli
Rank: 1
Do Emotions have Emotions?
Can Emotions die?
If Riley was bitten by a vampire and turned into one of them, would the Emotions become vampires, too? AND WHOSE BLOOD WOULD THEY DRINK?
These were the thoughts that kept Fear awake at night. These thoughts were the reason why, whenever he was on Dream Duty, he'd frantically call Disgust back before she reached her room. Or, if she was on Dream Duty, those thoughts were the reason why he lingered by the console, plucking up the courage to talk to her.
Whenever he shared what was on his mind, the green broccoli-shaped gal would roll her eyes, say, "Ugh!" and tell him her brutally honest opinions. Emotions don't have their own Emotions in their heads because they are Emotions, and infinite regress wouldn't make any sense. They won't die until Riley dies (which, if they're careful, won't be for another ninety years). And vampires aren't real, so why worry about that? Gradually, though, Fear stopped looking for answers when he asked such stupid questions. He just liked to listen to her sassy voice, watch her lipstick-plastered mouth move, wait for her to flick her hair back in that delightful way she always did.
Eventually, Fear gave up trying to think of things to fret over and share with Disgust. It had been going on for months and he was tired of the excuses. If he wanted things to go any further, he'd have to make the first move and be a little clearer about it. On the night he didn't come to her with a concern, just slid into the seat beside her as a dream about hockey started playing, she gave him the once-over and asked a question of her own: "What's wrong now?"
"Nothing," said Fear. "Absolutely nothing at all."
"Okay." Disgust shuffled away from him.
It was then that Fear decided to try it, that technique picked up from one of Riley's favourite cartoons. There was a bead of sweat trickling down his face; he wiped it away before Disgust could point it out. You can do this. You can be bold. He yawned, stretching his arms above his head, and let one flop behind her back –
She screeched and leapt to her feet. "What the heck? I don't want your germs!"
"Sorry!" he instantly replied. "Sorry, sorry, sorry…" Apologising more than once made things much better, right? Right? Wrong. Her mouth was still curled into a sneer. He sighed. "I'll just leave you to it," he mumbled, nodding towards the screen and scuttling away, throwing back another "Sorry" just to be on the safe side.
"Wait."
He stopped.
"Get back here."
It was the tone of voice that nobody argued with. Biting his lip, Fear returned, dragging his feet a little.
"Sit down."
He did so.
Disgust said nothing more. They followed the events playing out on screen. The dream had just taken a very bizarre turn (involving a ride on a tow truck with rocket boosters) when Fear uttered yet another "Sorry."
"Oh, for Pete's sake, stop apologising!" the female Emotion growled.
"Sorry." He realised what he'd done and facepalmed.
To his surprise, Disgust didn't snap at him again. Instead, she giggled. He'd never heard her giggle before. It was kind of cute. She stroked her chin, pondering something, and then offered Fear her hand.
"Aren't you worried about my germs?" he teased her.
She shrugged. "I trust you."
Fear blinked. When he gingerly wrapped his long bony fingers around her perfectly formed hand, a thousand thoughts raced through his body. Is my palm sweaty? Am I squeezing too tightly? How will I know when she wants to let go?
But then they met each other's gaze, and he saw how beautiful her eyes were, green as emeralds – and he saw the terror lying behind, the total contrast to the grin forced onto her face.
She's just as scared as me.
Maybe more.
Though she had casually shrugged when she said she trusted him, it must still have been hard for her. The point of her existence was to keep Riley away from things, whether that be vegetables, uncool clothes or the pencils her father sneezed on while he was helping her with her homework. For Disgust to let something into her life went completely against the grain.
In much the same way, Fear being bold was practically impossible. He was awkward, he was clumsy, he was often a stutterer. It came with the job description. Caution was the name of his game. Keeping Riley safe and alive was his raison d'être. Combine all that timidity and uncertainty and tenderness with a strident girl who despised "losers" and hated being touched – "How do I know where you've been?" – and you had a complete culture clash. It was never going to work.
But more than anything else, he wanted it to work. And if that meant bending the rules ever so slightly, so be it.
He smiled at her, hoping he was reassuring her despite the butterflies in his stomach. She smiled back, a genuine smile this time, and they turned to observe another silly dream, still clutching each other's hands.
Fear had Disgust by his side. For tonight, that was enough.
