Comedy, slapstick, and (sometimes) bad puns.
He was, to sum up, a pretty unpleasant guy to have at the head of your department in the holiday season.
No kinks, no cross-dressing, no tag-team threesomes, and all pets must be ushered out of the room beforehand.
I noticed, Ed told him with as much edge as he could muster.
Sergeant Broche smiled in frozen panic at the miniature devil that had cornered him in the officer's mess.
Roy stuck a finger in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he savored the heavy and rich fluid.
"You have no idea how good you look right now," Roy said.
Ed shrugged, although his expression suggested he was trying to keep from being too smug about beating a man almost twice his age.
After so many years in the dark, Edward Elric had discovered he had a libido after all, and it was unfortunately exacting its frustrated vengeance upon one Alphonse Elric.
"For only one arm..." Ed rasped out, gritting his teeth against the pain.
Unexpectedly, the door flew open with a loud bang, steps sounded on the tile, and a very familiar, very cranky voice said...
“Um, you must’ve learned that from Colonel Bastard. You’d better not be flashing that at the nurses. Or at me, ever, ever again.”
Thank you General Mustang. At least that creep was good for something. Winry still wasn't convinced he was good for Ed.
"Stop that," he snapped, flicking the tap on. "Change into something a little more appropriate. You're not him, brother."
It was an old argument — practically every night, the ritual sparring for who'd be in control.
Sometimes he outright disappeared for hours, leaving Al feeling panicked.
There was a crunching noise from Roy's direction, as of teeth biting through the edge of a porcelain cup.
Winry was ten when her grandmother commented that she already needed training bras.
Yes, something was amiss, and Roy Mustang was going to find out what.
"That's what you said last time. And the time before that. And," he added, dragging the feather upward with maddening slowness, "The time before that."
It took you long enough to make your call. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten how to work a phone.
"I'm going to plant a few solid pounds of Risembool milled steel right in her catty, smirking face is what I'm going to do!"
He'd lied in smoke filled bars. He'd hunted down lubricants in seedy stores that catered to the most iffy of clientele. Alfons had EARNED Ed's love.
Smug, he'd stayed just long enough to give his report and then had marched straight off to Resembool with Al lagging behind.
Typical Ed; overprotective, hypocritical, condescending, and for some reason fundamentally incapable of treating Al as an equal.
Edward Elric was notoriously known for his intense dislike of milk.
"You paid for him to have sex?" Mustang says incredulously, putting his pen down on the table top and shoving the form away. "You bought him a prostitute?"
"You're a lightweight," Roy said dryly, and smiled at the face Ed pulled. "That's enough for tonight, I think."
"Alchemy is intended for the public good. If it wasn't anything illegal, why the need for secrecy?"
Really, who said that a woman's sex life had to end at 60? An experienced woman had a lot to offer, and Pinako was quite, quite experienced.
The only problem was that Ed didn't know what the heck "getting some" was or what he was being congratulated for.
She looked the wire over for a minute, noting where the insulation had been stripped away for retuning, then tugged it gently, careful not to pull too hard.
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.
"I am not obsessed with Edward Elric!"
"Well... Brother does that, every so often. He really should think before he tries to attack people."
Edward Elric was in an exceedingly bad mood.
"Edward," Hawkeye said kindly, "has it occurred to you that you and Alphonse may be spending too much time alone?"
"There is no corresponding word in your language. There is consort, but most people seem to think that that is some kind of advisory position. Then there is wife, which is a bit closer to the true definition--"
She had heard all the lines before. Pinako was a female in a mostly male line of work, after all.
"You. Boy by the window who's been doodling all the way through. What would be the result of this equation?"
He didn't die of natural causes, oh no — the old man clung to life tenaciously.
Such strength. Such dignity. Such discipline. So not the person she was supposed to seduce.
One day Edward was out kicking the crap out of those damn Homunculus with Al...
"In case you hadn't noticed," Ed went on, poking Roy in the chest, "I am no longer twelve."
The kid is easily recognizable by his golden hair and eyes, his automail arm and leg, and the obvious chip on the shoulder.
The door opened, and all the energy Ed had been ready to put towards transmuting the door into a pile of sticks drained out of him through his feet.
Let me start by saying that I love my grandchildren. Actually, they’re my great great grandchildren, but that’s repetitive and makes me sound old, so screw that.
Sometimes Al thinks that somewhere back in the Armstrong family tree lurks an alchemical accident in a sequin factory.
Ed jabbed accusingly with an automail finger — nearly putting out Mustang's eye as he did so — and shrieked, "You're a crossdresser!"
To every outlandish, self-serving, and sometimes damn near suicidal thing that Edward Elric suggested, Jean Havoc would always reply mildly, with just a touch of good humor, "You're the boss."