A/N: Ta-da! Those of you who're reading America's What? (or the summary) probably have some idea of how this is going to turn out, as in the chapters will probably be tied together by a loose/vague/possibly-nonexistent plot, though can still be kind of read as one-shots, if you'd like. However, unlike America's What?, this fic probably won't be as America-centered, though America will still be in it—

America: *swings through window* "Because that's what the Hero is for, dudes!"

Me: "Hey! You're going to be the one cleaning that shattered glass!"

America: *starts picking up glass* "Sure thing, bro!"

Britain: "Not with your bare hands, you twat!"

—And of course, there will also likely be a lot of ship tease.

Summary: Where do the nations' cars keep going? How does everyone keep summoning things from head-sparkles to Tokaji wine to the Grecian Army? And what is this "Yaoi Army" you speak of? Well, welcome to "How I Cracked Your Fanfic"!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers.

Hungary's Lesson on UST

Romano was muy, muy furioso, as Spain would dub it—he'd caught his brother spoon-feeding that potato bastard; the other potato bastard had tried to serenade him with a broom solo while he was in the process of storming out the door; Switzerland had chased him with a gun after he'd snapped at Liechtenstein, which only worsened his foul mood, and to top it all off, Spain, the bastard, had spent twenty minutes trying to cast a cheer-up charm on him. So, Romano simply did the most sensible thing a nation could do in such situations:

He "borrowed" Spain's car and took it on a joyride to the nearest bar. It was a perfectly logical course of action, dammit!

". . . and that's how I wound up here," Romano sighed, concluding his explanation and taking a long sip of his drink.

"Aw, that sounds tough," Hungary said from behind the bar. Pulling out a bottle from—Wait, that definitely wasn't there before! What in the . . . ? "Would you like another round? Usually, I would charge you money for the second bottle of Tokaji wine, but in the good name of the Yaoi Army, this one's on the house."

Romano's eyes widened, spitting out the liquid. She definitely hadn't been behind the bar earlier! "W-wait, what happened to the bartender, you pervert?"

"Oh, him?" she shrugged. "He's kind of occupied at the moment."

"Ugh . . . where am I?" the bartender wondered. The last thing he could remember was something metal colliding with his head.

"My apologies, sir," Japan bowed slightly. "You will be returned to the bar later, but you'll have to stay here for awhile . . . for the greater good, of course. We have a duty to fulfill."

"Hmm, alright then," the bartender agreed, and promptly lost consciousness again—this time with snoring. Japan blinked.

". . . Well, that was easier than I thought."

"Anyway, there is a reasonable explanation why you feel like this," Hungary continued.

"I already told you, it's because they're all bastards," Romano deadpanned, picking up his drink again. "And why do you care? I don't need a damn therapist!"

"I care because you are obviously suffering from a severe case of UST. More wine?"

Romano gagged on his drink but didn't spit it out this time, launching into a coughing fit as Hungary smiled innocently. When he calmed down enough to speak, he asked, "What is wrong with you? No talking when I'm trying to get a drink down!"

"Oh, but it's nothing to be ashamed of! I mean, just look at Britain," she prattled on, gesturing toward the other end of the bar where the drunken nation was ranting to a completely sober America. "Even France agrees that he and America have been accumulating it for what, at least two hundred years now? And everyone knows that he and France have been at it for much longer. Actually, he's been accumulating it with just about everyone out there . . . . You don't want to end up like him, do you?"

"Hey, what's so bad about me, mate?" Britain asked indignantly, noticing their conversation. "I'm the United Bloody Kingdom, and I can hold my liquor better than any of you, and if—"

"Yes, yes, we understand. But while you're drunk, Britain, I have a question for you," Hungary interrupted, a devious glint in her eyes. "Exactly how much UST would you say you have with America?"

"Whoa, not cool, man!" America protested.

"Shut up!" Britain said. "I felt bad about how the bloody frog was treating you, so I—"

America suddenly grabbed Britain by the arm before he could go on yet another intoxicated monologue—he'd lost track of the many monologues Britain had already given that evening—and started dragging him out of the bar, saying, "Alright, bro, I think it's about time we got out of here, okay man?"

In response, Britain let out a fairly impressive string of curses.

Shrugging, America explained to Romano and Hungary as he led Britain out the door, "Dude can party."

After the two of them left the building, attracting many stares along the way, Romano sat at the bar in dumbfounded silence, more confused than ever.

"Well, that was abrupt," Hungary finally remarked. Perking up, she continued, "So, Romano, the point of this lesson has been to show you what UST may lead to. As you may have observed with Britain, things may sometimes escalate very—"

"If I drive back to Spain's house now, will you agree to shut the hell up?" Romano snapped.

"Only if you make up with him," Hungary replied. "Or make out with him . . ." her yaoi-obsessed mind supplied.

"Fine, fine," he sighed, standing up to leave. "Just . . . let's never speak of this again."

"I can't promise you that!" she chirped as he walked out the door.

Eventually, Japan peeked around the corner. "Have they left yet, Hungary-san?"

"Yes, Japan," she confirmed.

"Good."

He then proceeded to pull the sleeping bartender back out, placing him against the wall before the two nations made a quick getaway to an undisclosed location, where they put the footage they'd captured of that night's events on loop.

The next morning, Britain woke up with an awful hangover and America, of course, attempted to cure it with his amazing burger medicine while France stood by making smug comments. As for Spain's car . . .

"Romano, you're alive!" Spain grinned gleefully. "Oh, I was so worried about you! You didn't get into any trouble, did you?"

"Seriously?" said Romano, gesturing at the smoldering wreckage behind him. "I just took your car and crashed it into your front porch, and that's how you greet me, you bastard?"

Spain tilted his head thoughtfully. "Well, how else would I greet you?"

". . . Good point."

The Fangirl Code, #1: If entering a bar/pub/tavern/ANYWHERE that serves alcoholic beverages, a Fangirl will always bring more than one camera.

Notes on this Chapter:

Not much to say here! But as you might have guessed, the title and the Fangirl Code are sort of parodies of How I Met Your Mother. Yeah.

In my headcanon, the Awesome Trio and possibly Bad Touch Trio try to abide by the Bro Code, and since the Yaoi Army might want to have some sort of rules as well . . . voila! The Fangirl Code. But this fic won't be entirely centered around the Yaoi Army, either—

Prussia: "Because they totally freak me out, which is totally unawes—"

Hungary: *polishes frying pan* "Hmm?"

Prussia: *rapidly backpedals* "Ah! Nein, it's nothing. Nothing at all!"

Me: "Alright then . . . though the Yaoi Army will likely be making various appearances throughout this fic either way."

Prussia: "WHAT?"

Me: "You heard me. I already went over this with you, dude—the chapters of this fic will focus on a variety of nations!"

Prussia: "Well, ja, but . . ."

Oh, and look out for Chapter 3, which will fulfill a request Guest reviewer RainbowRose17 left on America's What? that has to do with one of the instructions in The Beginner's Guide to Relationships: for the Hard Hearted German (from "America's Writing Skills", Chapter 12 of America's What?). Just giving you guys a heads-up for that! Reviews are, as always, greatly appreciated.

And here's a hint about the nation the next chapter focuses a bit on: Comrades?

Prussia, the outro, please!

Prussia: "Fine, but are you really sure having the Yaoi Army here is a good idea? I mean, Hungary's kind of freaking out right now . . . . Wait, but I'm too awesome to be freaked out!

Me: "You going to do the outro yet?"

Prussia: "Ja! Stay awesome!"