#the rows of cherry trees

[anime-to-the-t]

The Rows of Cherry Trees/ さくら並木

[yuripoll]

CHAMPIONS BRACKET ROUND 1: C1

Bloom into You is... it's Bloom into You. You know what Bloom into You is. Sakura Namiki is the oldest thing in the bracket, a 1957 class s shoujo about ping pong players.

[efemmera-archive]

The Rows of Cherry Trees (1957) by Takahashi Makoto

[himejoshidoll]

[double-lariat]

[erio-towa]

The Rows of Cherry Trees (さくら並木) Takahashi Macoto, 1957

[abuddyforeveryseason]

This is the Buddy for November 7th. It looks pretty nice, but that's cause it's a trace. The original's from a panel of the 1957 manga The Rows of Cherry Trees, by Makoto Takahashi (which sounds like a fake name). This is the page I ripped off:

It was a pretty interesting read. I like it when a story has zero commitment to the concept of masculinity. It's one of the reasons I enjoyed Princess Knight (although some elements of that manga didn't work too well, the comedy felt out of place at times, which is something The Rows of Cherry Trees avoids).

Speaking of girly stuff, I'm reminded of a story. When I was a kid, there was a show "for girls" that would air around the time me and my friends got home from school. I never watched it, I'd be off doing other stuff. Then, the next morning, we'd go to school and my friends and I would mock it for being so girly.

Years later, when we were in our teens and willing to joke about it, I found out all my friends were watching it religiously, and just lying about it to look more macho. And they assumed I was lying too! In fact, when I told them that I had never watched it, didn't know the characters, they thought I was still ashamed of being a fan.

So it was a weird situation for me cause there was this public lie that no boys watched the show and I was naïve enough to believe it and actually refuse to watch the show. And it's weird cause I did like other stuff that was considered girly, and I was willing to admit it in my teens (albeit under the excuse that the women acting on theose shows were 'hot'), but that particular show's never been part of my life. And I don't even remember if that's because I felt self-conscious about even seeing it, or because I just believed my friends when they said it was crap so no one would realize they were fans.

[class-shoujo]

“The Rows of Cherry Trees” / “Sakura Namiki” (1957) by Macoto Takahasji

Status: Finished, Volumes: 1, Chapters: 4

Synopsis: Light drama and misunderstanding ensues when Yukiko is accused of intentionally throwing a ping pong match with the goal of garnering the affections of an upperclassmate. 

Review: “The Rows of Cherry Trees'' is a sweet and delicate story of passion between female classmates that “balance[s] deliciously between Ukiyo-e prints and modern manga, with both narrated stills and panels with dialogue.” (Erica Friedman, okazu.yuricon.com). Though not quite the first manga, Shoujo, Class S work, or proto-Yuri, the book in many ways acts as a transitional piece and a significant influence on all the aforementioned mediums and genres, giving a unique window into how classic Japanese art helped develop more modern Japanese media styles of today. In the context of modern manga “The Rows of Cherry Trees” comes across as quite restrained, and perhaps even slow and uneventful. I am not meaning to communicate that “The Rows of Cherry Trees'' is a bad or uninteresting manga, but it is an artwork of its own accord meant to be consumed on its own terms, and when approached as such it does have the ability to be truly moving, if not just a delightful and fascinating look into manga history. This story predates Yuri as we are familiar with it today, but even for a lightly seasoned Yuri fan it is not hard to see how the intimate (likely) platonic relationships between girls in stories such as this helped develop and set the tone for more explicitly LGBT+ narratives for years to come. Personally I was very surprised by the power of one scene in particular in which Yukiko and Chikage see a ballet of a swan being hunted and killed, a ballet I couldn’t help but see as a metaphor for the inevitability of heteropatriarchal powers awaiting our adolescent characters once they should leave the supposed safety of emerging girl’s culture offered to them by schooling. Scenes such as this are not explicit in what they are communicating or why they were included beyond the apparent beauty of the artwork, but if you are familiar with the early Yuri works and the history surrounding them, you will have the chance to have emotional connections such as these.

I would not recommend this work to an early manga or Yuri initiate, and despite the beauty this will take a steeling of one’s nerves to continue paying attention, short as the manga is, but if you have any interest in the history of manga, Shoujo, Class S, or Yuri I would say this is a must read.

Additional Points: 

+ Point for playing a critical role in helping develop and codify girl’s culture in Japan and giving relationships between girls a place on the stage in both Japanese and world media.

+ Point for beautiful visual metaphors and creative storytelling.

+ Point for historical intrigue in regards to the formation of classic genres.

- Point for not going quite as far with the story as I would have preferred.

- Point for ultimately feeling inconsequential.

Rating: 6 / 10 (Fine)

[crowsdreams0]

Old school sports yuri always hits different

[strangemonochromes]

The Row of Cherry Trees (さくら並木) //Macoto Takahashi

[anime-to-the-t]

[yuripoll]

UNDERDOGS ROUND 1

[efemmera-archive]

The Rows of Cherry Trees (1957) by Takahashi Makoto

[thequeenofcurses]

The sun had just started to dip low, bathing the garden in warm, sleepy gold. Flowers bloomed in perfect rows, and everything was calm and quiet. Just the way Sukuna liked it.

Or used to like it. Before you.

Peace and quiet? In this shrine of his? Not since the day you stumbled in barefoot and not asking, but demanding he take you in.

You were skipping ahead of him now, frolicking like some woodland sprite, twirling on your toes and pointing at every flower like it was the first one to ever bloom (you literally planted most of these yourself).

“Oh! Look at this one, ‘Kuna. It’s pink! I love pink. Don’t you love pink? It reminds me of your hair!” you said, practically glowing. Your declaration was punctuated by the same shade of pink that was sewn into your new kimono that you begged Uruaume to make for you.

He didn’t answer. Just exhaled through his nose like the world was testing him again. His upper arms crossed, lower ones shoved into his sleeves, and all four eyes tracked you as you danced under a cherry blossom tree like you belonged there.

“If you trip over a rock and fall into the pond, I’ll leave you there.” He said flatly, but he was actually smirking.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “You love me too much to let me die.”

“Tch.” All four of his eyes narrowed. “I should kill you myself just for saying that.”

You both knew he didn’t mean it. He’s always let you get away with way too much.

Because when you giggle and run back to grab his hand, tugging him forward with that innocent smile and beautiful doe eyes —that he hates how much he adores, he lets you. He always lets you.

He grumbles under his breath, but his fingers curl around yours anyway. “You’re insufferable,” he mutters.

“And you’re in looove,” you teased. You give him a little boop on his nose then continue to twirl, showing off your new kimono and how cute and flowy it looks.

He growls, low in his throat, (almost like a cat!) but there was no malice behind it; only the softest twitch of a smile as he lets you drag him deeper into the garden he used to call his.

But it had been yours the moment you started calling it ours.

ryomen sukuna

[blueiscoool]

A 2,000-Year-Old Pompeii Garden Springs Back to Life

The Pompeii Archaeological Park has recreated an ancient perfume garden—right down to its antique roses.

A garden once flourished in Pompeii. There, alongside a typical row house, olive trees, roses, and vines blossomed, nourished by hand-carved irrigation channels. The entrance to the site bore the Latin inscription “Cras Credo,” translated to “Credit will be offered tomorrow,” a touch of Pompeiian humor. The Vesuvius eruption in 79 C.E. wiped out the grounds—but preserved hints of its purpose.

Now, a new garden is taking root the same spot. The Pompeii Archaeological Park has just unveiled the restored Garden of Hercules (so named for a statue of the mythical hero uncovered at the site), freshly planted with 1,200 violets, 1,000 ruscus plants, and 800 antique roses, as well as vines and cherry and cotton apple trees. The botanical display is intended to mirror how the garden appeared 2,000 years ago, based on the findings of botanist Wilhelmina Jashemski, who identified pollen, spores, and plant fossils in the area in the 1950s.

“In Pompeii, the natural and archaeological landscape are one,” Gabriel Zuchtriegel, the park’s director, said in a statement. “The green of Pompeii, which was once perceived as a management and maintenance problem, an element almost separate from archaeological structures, is now recognized as an essential component of archaeological areas, as well as of the largest agricultural project of the Park.”

Located on Regio VIII, Insula 2 of the archaeological park, the house joining the garden was uncovered in 1953 before the rest of its grounds was excavated in 1971–72, with further studies carried out in the ’80s. Researchers found that the house was rebuilt following a 62 C.E. earthquake, with its owner buying surrounding land to plant the garden.

In the garden, archaeologists discovered holes in the earth that once held the roots of olive trees, impressions left in the soil by vine trellises, and biological traces of roses. Numerous perfume bottles found on the site indicate the garden was once involved in the commercial production of perfume. Flowers would be pressed with olive oil or grape juice, researchers found, before the concoction was bottled and sold.

Also significant was the discovery of an ancient irrigation system, which allowed gardeners to water the plants through a hole in the wall, without having to enter the site. The water would then flow through channels that wound their way around flower beds, or pool in reservoirs created by earthenware pots, or dolia, situated around the grounds.

“If a gardener needed to give extra water to a plant, they could take it from a dolia,” historian Maurizio Bartolini told the London Times.

Bartolini, who worked on the replanted garden, believes that the garden’s owner might have been experimenting with scents at the site, as opposed to running a full-scale operation. The garden, he noted, measures a mere 98 by 98 feet, while creating 5cc of perfume takes some 2,000 roses.

The irrigation system has been recreated for the Garden of Hercules, its troughs meandering across the new beds. A terracotta statue of the Greek legend has also been reproduced, installed in a small nook next to an outdoor dining space.

“This was a productive place,” Zuchtriegel told the Times of the space, “but also really beautiful.”

The recreated garden is part of Pompeii Archaeological Park’s efforts to shed light on daily life in the ancient Roman city before its destruction. Also currently on view at the site is “Being a Woman in Ancient Pompeii,” an exhibition that delves into the lives, roles, and activities of Pompeiian women.

By Min Chen.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

A Day In Blood-Swell Swamp

Yandere Frog Hybrid x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, non-human genitalia, oviposition, general yandere behavior, misunderstanding, reader stuck in mud) Word Count: 1.7k (The yandere in this is a cinnamon roll. A real sweetie. Needed another one like him. He misread the reader's intent and is not at all a bad guy. Really hope you guys like him)

You were an artist on a mission. You were traveling all over your country to sketch the flora, fauna, and landscapes of various habitats. You had already visited several different forests and a couple of prairies.

Now you found yourself in Blood-Swell Swamp. The waters of the swamp were a deep red color. Many people in nearby towns were superstitious about the place and its odd colored water, but you knew it was just a combination of iron filled water and algae.

You rowed the tiny boat you had purchased and found a dry outcrop of trees overlooking the water logged scenery.

When you looked at the impressive sanguine waters and wetland forest sprawling out in front of you, you knew you had made the right decision.

You got out and tied the boat to a tree, the waters were still, but better safe than sorry.

Once you decided on a good spot to look at you pulled out your sketchbook. The first thing you sketched was a frog on a lily pad beside a blooming water lily. The next thing was a cluster of unique purple flowers.

After that you began the larger task of drawing the landscape as a whole.

You had just about finished when you heard a splash and then an enthusiastic male voice behind you.

"HI!!!"

You turned around and almost fell over. If the sudden presence of an unknown man behind you hadn’t been enough to scare you, the fact that he wasn’t human would have.

He was crouched down on very athletic looking legs, wearing nothing but a loincloth. He had long webbed toes and fingers that matched, though he only had four fingers. His mouth was a bit too long and his eyes were large and purple. He was a bit shorter than you but he clearly had a strong and compact body.

But the most odd thing was the color of his skin. He was a deep cherry red with the color transitioning into blue on his arms and legs past his elbows and knees.

His medium length black hair dripped as he tilted his head and spoke again.

“Hello? Are you okay? What are you doing?”

You collected yourself, still frightened by his appearance despite his so far friendly demeanor.

“Uh…”

“Are you okay??”

You flinched backwards as he stepped towards you. He stopped approaching as he noticed you were uncomfortable.

“I just… never saw a… what you are before…”

“Oh! Well I am a frogkin. I have seen a human or two before, but only from a distance.”

You were about to respond but he cut you off, he seemed to be really excited to have someone to chat with.

“My name is Cobi, what’re you called?”

You mentally scolded yourself for your rude and frightened demeanor and forced yourself to calm down and introduce yourself. You were in his territory after all, and he had been nothing but polite to you. You gave him your name and explained to him that you were an artist there to sketch the beauty of the swamp. You showed him your sketches.

“Oh wow, we don’t have any artists here. I have never even heard of sketches. We have some wall paintings in some of our huts, but nothing like this!”

The frog man was clearly impressed.

“Oh, I couldn’t live without being able to draw all the beauty around me. Hey, could I draw you? Just a quick sketch!”

If the skin on his face wasn’t already red you would have been able to see that he was blushing. If you drew beautiful things then that must mean you thought he was beautiful. The notion made his heart flutter.

“S-sure!” Cobi said in his ever chipper voice.

You spent some time sketching him, despite your original plan to get just a quick one in, he happily let you get a couple extra. One with him in the water and one of him crouched on a dead log.

When you finished your sketching you fished some sandwiches out of your backpack and offered one to Cobi. He took it and sniffed inquisitively trying to figure out what it was.

“It’s food, it’s called a sandwich.” You took a few bites of yours and then he took a few cautious nibbles before his eyes lit up and he stuffed the whole thing in his mouth at once. You had to stifle a laugh.

"Thank you, that was super yummy!"

Cobi was blushing more. You drew him because you thought he was beautiful. Attractive. And now you gave him food. Surely that meant you were interested in him right? People of the swamp didn’t just give food away! You gave food to those you liked. Friends, family, and potential mates you were courting!

Even if it was subconscious you probably were trying to court him. And he really wanted to explore the possibility of being your partner too, you were so kind and interesting.

But he didn't want to jump the gun and assume before he had a bit more solid evidence. So instead of asking or acting on what he felt all the evidence pointing to he just hung around and chatted with you a bit more while you finished your meal.

You finished your food slowly, enjoying your time getting to know the inquisitive frogkin. You answered all of his seemingly inexhaustible supply of  questions.

When you finished and said your goodbyes he seemed sad, but you were a traveler. You couldn't really make lasting friendships. And then, when you started to get up, you fell right over your own feet. Your arm stuck in some thick mud with your face low to the ground and your ass pointed up.

And that was all the confirmation Cobi needed. Ass up and presenting. The universal signal to breed!

If you had been able to see his face you would have seen that he was flustered beyond measure. You were also far too preoccupied to notice what Cobi was muttering.

"Oh... well I thought that maybe you just wanted to c-court and get to know one another better... I thought.. I j-just um... well it's just that... I-I have never even done it before... but... it seems like you really want to..."

Despite it being a bit fast he supposed he had become quite smitten with you. And, well, maybe humans coupled faster than frogkin. And he really didn't want to hurt you or offend you!

"O-okay, I'll do it!" He exclaimed loudly.

You were finally almost out of the muck and were about to ask him what he was going to do when he suddenly pulled your pants down and slid his huge tongue right into your entrance. You shuddered in shock and ended up with both hands stuck in the mud.

"Wh-what are you doing!?"

Cobi wasn't paying any attention to your words, not as lost in his efforts to loosen up your hole in preparation for the main event as he was. He gripped your legs with his webbed hands as his tongue probed you as deeply as possible, kneading and throbbing and gently stretching out your insides.

The pleasure was indescribable. You wanted Cobi to stop, but time you tried to articulate a protest the only sound you managed to produce was a loud moan or gasp.

And of course the only possible reaction Cobi could have to that was to think that he was doing a great job making his new mate nice. And he wanted to feel good with you.

He removed the slimy tongue from your entrance and removed his loincloth. Cobi then aligned his engorged cock and drew circles against it with before tip before slowly sinking into your tight heat. He had held reservations about making love to you so soon into courting, but now that he was inside you the last of them had melted away.

"Oh, oh, ooohh, you feel so amazing! I-i think you were meant for this pretty artist~"

Much in the same way that your resolve had melted away under the burning flood of pleasure Cobi was drowning you in. Judging by how it felt it was no human cock. It was much longer, a little thicker, and felt a bit slimy. With every thrust you lost a bit more of yourself until you were moving back against his movements, desperately trying to chase the orgasm you were building up to.

You had just come here to help along your art and now here you were in the mud mounted like a bitch in heat and enjoying it. It would have been humiliating if you had the capacity to dwell on such matters.

There were more important things to think about right now. Like the cock breeding you. The feel of unnaturally heavy nuts smacking into you. The soft and attentive lips kissing up your backside, straining to reach your neck.

You arched your back as you had the most mind shattering climax of your life.

"I can't hold back anymore. You sketched for me. L-let me just paint your insides for you~"

And then you learned why his nuts felt so heavy as they slammed against you. As he filled you he deposited much more than just normal cum. Over dozens of small round objects flooded into you and adhered themselves to your walls.

"Wh-what the?"

Cobi plucked you out of the mud with ease and pulled you into his lap as he sat down, with his prick still buried snugly inside of you. He held you close to his sweaty body and caressed your belly lovingly.

Now that you had a moment to process your predicament and the events that had just transpired you were completely dumbfounded. One moment you were trying to get out of the mire and the next you were being fucked.

"I'm so glad you wanted to be mates~"

Your mind was reeling trying to come up with a response to such an outrageous claim. When had you expressed anything resembling such a des-

"Mmmm~" Instead you could only reply with a pathetic pleased whimper as Cobi began rolling his hips, grinding into you and very slowly fucking you for a second time.

"Don't worry, I have plenty more eggs just for my sweet artist~"

You could only lean back against him and drool as he wrapped his arms around you possessively and temporarily fucked your mind away once more.