Comedy, slapstick, and (sometimes) bad puns.
Fullmetal smiled a long, slow smile, the sort that promised evil things were in the near future, and put his boots up on Roy's desk.
"You know we need to catch that train to Central, and you were being unreasonable. If we're late getting back again, General Mustang's going to have a fit."
The only other tradition that was better than eggnog to Al, was that of mistletoe.
High school and sexuality are hard enough to deal with, without adding high explosives to the mix.
It was sure to be a disaster.
And everyone knows, when a homunculus is in trouble, there’s only one place to go!
"Shut up. Don't say anything. I made you food, and there's beer in the icebox, and happy fucking Oktoberfest."
"Our boy here hasn't done a lick of work since eleven am, and she hasn't noticed at all. D'you think she's in love?"
You don't want to see spicy photos of my gorgeous girlfriend?
That was the problem with girls these days... they just didn't know how to deal with a little pain.
Etiquette doesn't quite cover situations like this one.
"We ought to have a toast," Ed says, frowning into the depths of his bottle. "They always do when they're having a drink in someone's memory."
He gently turned Ed's head so that he faced the camera, and with just a little luck, Ling would catch that amazing expression Ed always had when he came.
No kinks, no cross-dressing, no tag-team threesomes, and all pets must be ushered out of the room beforehand.
The Full Metal Alchemist, of course, accepted his assignment with all the gravity due his station.
"Don't worry about it," he says bossily. "I know what to do. Give me the book--don't close it--ah, thanks."
"What part of self-defense was it to write 'BIG FAT NINNY' on his forehead in permanent marker?"
Roy Mustang had his own addiction, and it was very simple: Roy Mustang was addicted to lieutenants.
"Stop that," he snapped, flicking the tap on. "Change into something a little more appropriate. You're not him, brother."
Roy was enchanted by the sound of her voice, pure like dewdrops in the morning.
... and the moral of the story is - well, I guess there's no moral to this story, it's just a bunch of stuff that happened. Kind of like the rest of this movie.
“Your latest expense reports left something to be desired. Why don’t you have a seat, and we’ll go over them.” “I’ll stand, thanks.”
The air feels cold against Al's face, and even colder down his naked back.
Some of the stuff he was asked to investigate was truly stupid shit. A bakery, for instance.
"You can't do that! This is a shounen series!" he hissed.
"Just talking and showing won't help much. He needs to try things before he can get them right."
He lay back on the couch (in Roy Mustang's office, where else?) and declared , "I'm not wearing this."
"You and I? Sleeping together?" Hughes snorted disdain, and spared a hand to push his glasses back up his face. "Ridiculous!"
He underestimates the little things, like how long it will take him to put his socks on in the morning, and she comes up the stairs when breakfast is long since over to find him crouched over a torn stocking, blinking back furious tears...
...it's making up for years with a date and flowers by alternately giving her the good, and then the bad, and then the good, and then the bad, and then the horrible.
There were whispers behind him, words exchanged in a frantic flurry of hisses and low notes.
“Sir,” he says, and Roy could be imagining it, but he thinks Falman’s usually flat tone has a hint of panic in it. “Have you read this memo yet?”
Unfortunately, Winry's 'own devices' were becoming the death of Pinako's various household devices.
"Alchemy is intended for the public good. If it wasn't anything illegal, why the need for secrecy?"
Snuggling on the couch was perhaps the only place where their differences worked with each other, albeit briefly.
They would have had a bitter bitchfight had both suddenly not stopped and realized it was all Roy's fault.
A small biological flaw, if one could even consider it that.
"So," said Ling. "I was thinking, perhaps my father can buy out Ed's contract."
Any girl would be driven insane if she was the youngest child and the only girl in a family of six children.
"I'm sorry! Look, I'll fix it. I didn't know it was going to turn out this way!"
I noticed, Ed told him with as much edge as he could muster.
Ling tried to cover his way with sly smiles and clever lines; he played at being a fool (and did it very well), when he was anything but.
He was just contemplating a launch, kick and a dash for the window when Armstrong's hands closed in his hair.
Ed growled under his breath, color high in his cheeks, and pulled away.
What part of 'this is my house' are you having problems with, Fullmetal?"
"I know, I know, the deal is whoever's on bottom gets to pick your shape, but really, this is ridiculous."
"Al," Ed said seriously and leaned forward to look up into his brother's glowing eyes, "if he had mind control powers, you would tell me, right?"