A/N: Here's the long-awaited Armstrong chappie! I'm not gonna lie, it's my worst yet. I just want to get it written and move on. Oh God. I can't even start with the wrongness. Please don't kill me?

Disclaimer: FMA is not mine. Neither is this story's random…pairing. Harukami on LJ thought it up. I just had to get in on the action.

Warnings: There are no words for this…

Monday
Dear Diary,

Once again, the Fuhrer has called those of the Armstrong line to save home and country…or at least the sanity of some of its most well trained military dogs.

Honestly, can't he ask someone else to do the saving some of the time? It's always, "Armstrong, guard Fullmetal." "Armstrong, help Flame get his act together and chase down Scar." "Armstrong, get me coffee."

Was so used to following orders, actually poured him coffee. Am beginning to feel like Fury.

Sigh. I thought when I left home it would be different. You know, I would finally get out of Arnold Luther's shadow. Older brothers can be such a bother. Even when we were kids our skills as alchemists of the Armstrong line were well respected, and we'd get called to save kittens from falling out of trees and such.

And it was always me who did the work back then, too. But did anyone appreciate me? NO. Arnold Luther took all the credit because his muscles were bigger and he had more sparkles.

This isn't something I'd confess to just anybody, but I'm actually a very mediocre sparkle producer. Have been shamed out of attending family reunions for the past 6 years now.

Am beginning to think I am regarded as somewhat of a black sheep.

And even here, surrounded by tiny people with no sparkles to their name, I am unappreciated.

Sigh. I have to go psychoanalyze the entire Eastern Headquarters. Apparently Arnold Luther has the power to psychoanalyze people at will and now they think I should have it, too. Didn't say anything counter to this as did not want to loose face yet again to evil older brother.

Apparently I had the measles when my family decided to pass that particular trick down the Armstrong line.

They didn't even get me a nice hotel room.

The things I do for duty.

Alex Louis Armstrong

Tuesday
Dear Diary,

If I told you all the things that are wrong with everybody here, I would need to write a book. And I'm not even kidding.

First of all, the angst that's going around is ridiculous. And there's like a love hexagon happening here. Basically the result is gender confusion, misdirected anger, megalomania, inferiority complexes, and random fixations on mini-skirts.

Here's the scoop. Roy is totally into Fullmetal, who would not admit he's into Roy if his life depended on it. There's weird rumors flying around about Al and Ed that I don't even want to get into. I mean, come on. What are they gonna do when Al's a giant suit of armor? Besides, I'm into brotherly love and all, but not that kind. Ew.

Hawkeye is trying to cover up a schoolgirl crush on Roy by pretending to be an evil genius bent on stealing power from Roy. Havoc pretends to be into Hawkeye but really digs Fury, who's just trying to stay out of the way. Luckily, Fury likes Havoc back, but is rather adorably too shy to admit it even to himself. Roy should just lock them in a closet or something.

Am not sure where Breda fits into the picture as Breda was too busy hiding under his desk from Black Hayate for me to really get a good interview in. Or maybe that was just because I was distracted by my own studliness in the hallway mirror.

Falman… is Falman. That's all I'm saying. Did you know he writes poetry? That's so…hot. Ahem. If I wasn't totally into my ladylove right now, I might be…investigating a little further.

At least I have a girlfriend. Then again, getting women has always been a very special technique passed down the Armstrong line for generations.

Have suggested they all write diaries to get in touch with their feelings and hopefully solve their own problems before I have to get any more involved than I already am.

Hey, it's not easy to be the guy everyone can always depend on to sparkle and flex and save the day.

Aw, who am I kidding? I don't know what I'm doing. Maybe if I just keep sitting here sparkling and flexing they'll decide I'm too pretty to bother and leave me alone.

Alex Louis Armstrong

Wednesday
Dear Diary,

Ah! Today has been a totally wonderful, completely satisfying, excellent, exemplary, happy, beautiful, sparkle-iscious, pec-pumping day!

I received in the mail a letter from my ladylove. It went as follows.

Dear Sparkles,

How are you, Dearie? Did you get those cookies I sent you? Hope you're doing well and staying out of trouble. Don't let the Fuhrer push you around too much. Remember, he's the most powerful man in Amestris, but he simply does not have the pecs you do. You could totally take him.

Am having fun puttering around the house. My granddaughter doesn't know about us yet. Have not found the right time to tell her. Feel very sneaky and romantic hiding our love.

It's actually kind of a turn on.

Still remembering our nights together in Risembool with fondness. Come back to me soon (preferably without a busted Edward and Alphonse) and show me some more of your super powers that have been passed down the Armstrong line for generations.

Love and kisses,
Your Hot Momma

P.S. I still have the sparkles you left in a jar at my bedside. They light up my night!

Have decided to take the rest of the day off of work to write to someone who actually appreciates me.

Alex Louis Armstrong

Thursday
Dear Diary,

Heh. Look at that. Roy locked Jean and Cain in the closet together. I hope he remembers to feed them.

Oh well. It could actually be therapeutic. Doesn't really involve me anyway. Am still on cloud nine from love letter.

My reply is now as follows:

My Dearest Pinako,

My heart yearns for the day when I can once again run my strong, thick fingers through your silver hair, and chop wood for you and flirt shamelessly while your granddaughter obliviously plays with her metal toys in the corner.

I am afraid that duty keeps me here for a time, but rest assured that I am doing my best to take care of young Edward and Alphonse, who are doing quite well.

I know it is of little consolation in my absence, but I think of you every moment. I sparkle for at least an hour every morning in your honor.

I am afraid that work is treating me rather roughly lately. I will be in need of more of your tender care when I am at last free to return to your charming abode for a little RnR.

And maybe then you can show me some more of those fascinating tricks you do with your tools. Almost as good as an Armstrong super power, those.

Love,
Your Studly Muscle Man

P.S. The cookies were absolutely scrumptious.

Look at that. I'm makingjust as many sparkles as Arnold Luther ever did.

The things a good woman can do for a man.

Alex Louis Armstrong

Friday
Dear Diary,

Okay, so Roy is laughing maniacally to himself in his office, Havoc and Fury are still in that closet, Hawkeye is writing God knows what in permanent pen on her desk (and shooting me positively frightened looks), Breda is hiding under his desk from snakes that totally came out of nowhere, Falman is trying to look like he's doing paperwork while he composes some of his more risqué pieces, Fullmetal is wandering around like he's being hunted, Al is playing with some kittens in the corner, and for some reason Black Hayate is digging his way out of the basement.

In short, it's a normal Friday at Eastern.

And nobody is paying attention to me. They didn't even notice I got my chest waxed last night.

I think I'll take a trip to Risembool this weekend. I know someone there who appreciates a good chest wax.

Alex Louis Armstrong

FIN

A/N: Heh, not to make you more angry, but I'm going to have to wait on answering reviews. But THANK YOU ALL FOR REVIEWING AND PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!

Dustwind proceeds to run away in fear of readers' wrath.