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Rusame - Blog Posts
Took me ages, but I’m finally finished the piece I was working on
Vietnam mentioned I can die happily
sorry for hetalia in 2025 do u still love me
Love ya bestiee/p/p
This is a commission I've done 4 @eps1l0nx
By the way, I headcanon rusame as a exes, who are still attracted to each other. And it kills them both. In my head, from Alfred's side it's more like "Please fuck off, it's already hard for me". From Ivan's side it's "Either you come back to me, or I press the red button."
This video is litteraly Ivan and alfred LMAO
(Credit to kneecaps video here - https://youtu.be/19nTbeWJDeo)
Work not yet finished, but I already like it so much🙏
honestly inspired by fanfiction @aph-america 💐
that's literally my roman empire
COLD WAR YAOI
this makes so much sense and I love it
these are the vibes I get from hetalia ships
GerIta: buddy cop action comedy
FrUk: classic period piece romance
Also FrUk: absurdist sketch comedy
USUK: box office blockbuster
Asakiku: mystery cult classic
Ameripan: high school sports drama
RusAme: psychological thriller
Also RusAme: dark comedy
Rochu: indie family drama
Spamano: 12 season telenovela
I don’t ship RusAme, but it’d be so funny to imagine the conversation America would have with England and France. America comes home, France and England are at the table, it’s 12 A.M.
England: and where have you been, young man?
America: … friend’s house
France: Ohonhon, which friend would that be
America … Russia.
Dead silence
Flashback to the one time I borrowed "Space Race" from my school library and kept imagining Alfred and Ivan while reading until I accidentally read the first part of the book as bl fanfiction
lil dump of my favorite city native (and his vitamin d deficient bf)
he's too damn tall but they make it work
I'm an orange moon I'm brighter than before Brighter than ever before I'm an orange moon and I shine so bright Cause I reflect the light of my sun
orange moon - erykah badu
okay, so I've been seeing some folks in the RusAme Country Club and Yacht Society say they don't see Ivan and Alfred together romantically nor do they see them having a healthy and/or romantic dynamic at all..... and I'm here to tell you that you are not seeing the VISION!
get a goddamn glass of your finest bourbon and/or vodka and put this record on your turntable, 'cause I'm about to ramble (CW: heavy-handed headcanons lmfao, foking long as hell too)--
Let me put it this way..... these two immortal beings met during a time of revolution and revolt. They met through a plead for help and a petty need to drive a third party crazy, and within that realm, found that they admired each other greatly. They revered their intelligence, their ambitions, their resistance, their people. Both beings were open and excited to learn from each other, and in that excitement, grew fond of each other at breakneck speed.
These two juxtaposed beings became best friends- despite the long distance, despite the difference in linguistics, and were bonded by a love for music, food, culture, and knowledge. They were uña y mugre; inseparable, always writing and visiting whenever possible. These two beings had their own inside jokes, their own gossip, their own humor. They even learned to speak in their respective languages in order to better understand each other!
Through this inexplicable connection, one of these beings is suddenly thrust into a civil war. Is it unlike anything they have experienced in their relatively young life. While others around them stay at a distance, their best friend of some odd years now immediately rushes to their side and helps in every way. They never leave their side, watching them break apart, seeing their health deteriorate, feeling helpless, seeing a flawed side of them like never before. Despite it all, despite the ugly irrational and hurt person they they know now, they care about them so much more. The feeling is mutual, as the war torn being holds nothing but utter appreciation for the other for staying through it all.
Simply knowing they could have ceased to exist with the war only serves to strengthen the bond they have. this transforms into something that takes both of them by surprise-- this deep love overtakes feelings of comradery and now they are just as inseparable, more so than when they were just friends. Now they know words of romance, they tear pages from love stories to send to each other, their embraces last much longer, they often get lost with each other at parties, they wake up later than everyone else. No one knows why. No one knows. These being truly live in their own world of pure, raw, unadulterated love. Their love is passionate, energetic, intense, engulfing, erotic- it's love at its best.
Once again, out of the blue, the climate around them changes. Suddenly, the older being is thrown into a revolutionary war kilometers away from the other. The younger beings' friends and allies disapprove of their alliance. In an unexpected turn, the second being's overseers also disapprove of their alliance as well, because their alliance only makes ridicule of the policies they must now abide by.
Then a world war distracts them from ever solving this issue. Then a second world war. Then a third war, where they are now the main contenders, and are now so apart, they have not seen each other in years. Not one word. They didn't even get to formally finalize their relationship. it just ended. As quick as it had started, now all they feel is anger. Anger that aims at their respective policies, their regressive societies, their ideologies. That anger was not born from those things. The anger stems from unfinished business; no closure, agonizing and guttural heartbreak. The frustration from what was left unsaid is what speaks for them and it comes out in physical brawls, in competitiveness, in slander, in unruly hatred.
Within this cloud of despise, there are glimmers of hope. Elbe Day, Van Cliburn, the space race, the Moscow-Washington hotline, the Olympics, worlds fairs, music, celebrations, US-Soviet soldier reunions, magazines, books, movies, joint ventures: they notice all of it. Slowly but surely that seething hatred just becomes a numb feeling of indifference.
As the decade comes and goes, they are both on separate paths. One being is suffering from socioeconomic and political turmoil, and the other... hates it. Despite the half-century they spent hating each other, seeing them in disarray is unsettling. Something they aren't aware enough to recognize is how much they care. There is care in the fact that instead of feeling schadenfreude of an ex-friend/ex-lover/ex-enemy's plight, they feel upset to see each other a mess. The more well-off person helped the other without a question. Their helping hand wasn't and is not used as artillery, it is just cut-and-dry help.
Now they are acquaintances again. They see each other at conferences. They say 'hello' to each other as they walk by. They share coffee and a cigarette here and there. They banter. Most importantly, they are equally disliked by most. This fact in itself leaves them with a weird thing to relate to. Sometimes it leaves them drinking together, complaining about tedious things others around them don't care for and would laugh at them for complaining about. Through that strange comradery, they find inside jokes, mutual interests, and "bonding time". Their bonding time is often just small talk or getting drunk- but funny thing, it will often push them a bit closer. Sometimes it will lead to a dinner, or a symphonic performance, or may just land them at the other's doorstep. Or in the other being's room. Or their bed. Once. Maybe three, four-- teen times? When did it start up again? Nobody knows. Hell, they don't even know.
What they do know is that when they're around each other, they cannot keep to themselves. They can be themselves. Something about sharing intimacy together is nostalgic in itself, but not only that. It's remembering what each other's favorite color was/is, it's remembering how the other prefers their tea, remembering the curves of their calligraphy, remembering the way they smile, retelling old stories as if they're new-- it's them falling in love, all over again!
Their romance is very unconventional, as they don't choose to label it, but they remain exclusive to each other. When they crave, they run to each other. If they're angry, they run to each other. If they're happy, they run to each other. They still remember their languages, they still have their letters and portraits in a storage unit somewhere, they remember where their hands go during an embrace, they know where to tilt their head during a kiss-- god, they remember everything! All that beautiful, breathtaking romance did not die with the years, it was only stored away. Just now are they allowed to unpackage it together. After years, they are able to talk about what they left behind. About "what if?" Yes, they talk about it inebriated mostly but that's a start! They have so many loose ends with each other, it may take them years to label themselves-- but they do care for each other.
In their own tired, worn, timid way, they show love. They yearn deeply. Much more than they'll ever admit.
alfred f. jones holding back the american urge to put ivan braginsky in the infamous black turtleneck + gold chain combo for his own selfish reasons
I feel like in the rusame club, rus' best attributes are thrown to the wayside. as an AMERICAN [EAGLE SCREECH] rusame enjoyer,,, I am here to set the record straight. here are the many hc's I've got on Al's admirations of Ivan:
he is so well-read. russian lit is truly a genre of its own, and Ivan got his writing talents from it. he could write a poem about dirt and make someone cry. while he is a reserved and intimidating person face-to-face, he can write everything he feels and sees so stunningly and concisely. I hc that during the height of their initial alliance (1850s-1900s) he would write Al letters about his day, how much he enjoyed seeing him last, about what he liked about him, and about how much he cares for him (he kept them all).
he will spend weeks, months, making something for the people he loves because it's fun to him, especially because he includes the little details. that one time in 1887 when they walked along the Sochi shore and found a rock that resembled Alfred's eyes (that he later lost)? well he looked all over Sochi beach and found another one just like it and made Al a ring with it. why? just because!
his appearance. man, if Alfred wasn't so prideful, he'd tell Ivan straightforwardly just how attractive he is and how attracted he is to him (he absolutely talks his ear off abt it when he's shtfaced lol). he is tall, broad, ethereally pallid- his skin is calloused and scarred in such a lovely way. he sees it as his skin being struck by lightning. his hair is light and soft in a way unachievable even by the best hair care. just looking at the man gives him frisson (and deep within his mind he feels others see it too, the jealous baby).
his hands
his nose. it's such a beautiful inheritance passed down from his first peoples to him, and Ivan wears it well. it makes him look all the more regal, and as an ndn man, Alfred sees large noses as a symbol of power. also, what doja cat said-
he's a damn-good dancer. waltz, paso doble, troika, but soviet tango guys- seriously, soviet tango.
elizabeth taylor eyes
he is a goddamn chef. pirozhkis, stroganoff, shchi- SCRUMPTIOUS. "hey, we're having a potluck and braginsky didn't bring anything again-" IT'S CAUSE AJ STASHED IVAN'S TRAY IN HIS CAR AGAIN
his sweaters (he's stolen approximately 122 sweaters from him and counting- ivan now hides his clothes when he visits)
after not seeing much of each other (or the best of each other) in the 50s-60s, I'd like to think that alfred and ivan enjoy exploring musical media of that era together in modern day. for example, alfred loves to show ivan how to dance the twist and ivan will share his x-ray record collection of contraband music with him.
ivan won't let him know that he's been to a maya kristalinskaya concert or two and he's already learned the dance. alfred won't let him know that he owns multiple muslim magomayev lps and once snuck past the iron curtain to hear vladimir troshin live.
when alfred and ivan visit each other, the standard gifts (or more like payment) is american cigarettes for russian vodka. nothing more nothing less. also american doritos, bcuz ame made rus try eating caviar with them and he's been shamefully hooked since
the biggest reason why I feel so anchored to rusame is the (theorized) love story. the grueling background of their romance. the way they went from friends, to lovers, to enemies, to friends again, to... who knows? (I'm mostly going off fanon rusame and the more widely shared hcs I've seen)
forget about the cold war--I love to think of how in love they were before the patriotic war.
all the letters they wrote one another, the gifts they made for each other; a painted picture of their eye in a locket, a portrait etched onto a lacquer box. photographs, poems, postcards. a pure love story. then it went away. then having to ignore this gnawing feeling of missing each other, of yearning each other. having to replace such a fiery love with hatred in the blink of an eye.
then that hatred gradually dissipates to become... more longing, more yearning. they wouldn't call it love (I think) but that intense, agonizing emotion for each other is always there and it's exclusive to them. them caring so little for each other and yet so much is so beautiful, so saddening, so incredible. they are my favorite love story you could say????
evening with my gal pal @ bolshoi theatre! ignore the kissing noises coming from the mezzanine
![[transatlantic Accent] Happy Atomic Valentine's Day, Ladies And Gents! In The Threat Of Impending Nuclear](https://64.media.tumblr.com/953912fb20fbd5346630a92ab6fd039b/2304f71e2d1f0951-8e/s500x750/7d189835754107e6c7a80e15f7242dcef8e76d6c.png)
[transatlantic accent] happy atomic valentine's day, ladies and gents! in the threat of impending nuclear doom, don't forget to gift your lover an english-to-russian dictionary and a geiger counter with those chocolates!
te pareces tanto a mi
que no puedes engañarme
rusame fiends... I have just found out that tchaikovsky performed at the inauguration of carnegie hall in 1891
“I never minded the cold, braginsky. it snows in arizona too, y’know.”