#Francisco Hernández

[lovelyballetandmore]

Esteban Hernández | Cavan Conley | San Francisco Ballet | Photo by Lindsay Thomas

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

Francisco Hernández Tomé (Spanish, c.1856-1872) Interior de la Iglesia de las Calatravas, en Madrid

[dance-world]

Esteban Hernandez - San Francisco Ballet

[qualitystart]

Team Puerto Rico WBC practice (via: x, x, x)

[pavelzacha]

Update: it got worse

[aperint]

Chicharito, Guardado y alguna prensa en México

Chicharito, Guardado y alguna prensa en México #aperturaintelectual #vmrfaintelectual @victormanrf @Victor M. Reyes Ferriz @vicmanrf @victormrferriz Víctor Manuel Reyes Ferriz

30 DE ENERO DE 2024 Chicharito, Guardado y alguna prensa en México POR: VÍCTOR MANUEL REYES FERRIZ Por primera ocasión, que recuerde, quiero hablar de deportes y me meteré en un tema del cual confieso no tener mucho conocimiento; sin embargo, me llama profundamente la atención los reflectores que ha acaparado el tema del regreso de dos jugadores a nuestra liga mexicana de fútbol y me refiero al…

[musicwithoutborders]

Francisco Hernández Pla / Capella de Ministrers,  Recercada a tres de dos tiples y bajo con acompañamiento  I  Musica Barroca Valenciana,1989

[thecubanartobserver]

Exposición Off Season, Colectiva

[casadranguet]

Oficina del Conservador con actividades en el Festival Santiago Creativo

Oficina del Conservador con actividades en el Festival Santiago Creativo

Con actividades que reverenciarán el patrimonio sonoro cubano, también con descargas de música trovadoresca y presentación de conjuntos corales, además de exposiciones, conferencias, y proyectos que revolucionarán el quehacer cultural en la urbe, la red de instituciones de la Oficina del Conservador de la Ciudad (OCC) se insertará en el programa del Festival Santiago Creativo. Dicho festival,…

[lovelyballetandmore]

Isaac Hernández | San Francisco Ballet | Photo by Nath Martin

[whencyclopedia]

Wanka Civilization

The Wanka (also Wanca or Huanca) people occupied the highlands of ancient central Peru around Lake Junin and the Manataro, Chanchamayo and Tarma rivers. The culture flourished from the Middle to Late Horizon periods (600 CE - 1532 CE). Dwelling in fortified hill-top settlements, they largely specialised in llama herding. As with other cultures in the area, herding was long-preferred over farming. It was not until c. 1000 CE that intense maize farming began, much later than in other contemporary cultures. This shift in agricultural practice was motivated by changes in settlements and a significant increase in population density. Now concentrated in walled towns, the capital city of the Wanka was established at Wari Willka.

Wanka art and architecture across their different settlements were influenced by the nearby Huari culture and the Ayacucho style. Settlements vary in size with the majority having fewer than 50 buildings but several having over 100. Most buildings were circular and arranged in small groups of up to twelve around an open courtyard. There is not much evidence of town planning, although some settlements were constructed in pairs in close proximity.

The Wanka provided stiff resistance to the Inca Empire until their final defeat at the hands of the great Inca leader Pachacuti (r. 1438 - 1471 CE). The Incas shifted populations to lower-level locations and administered the area from an imperial centre at Jaujatambo. Agriculture became better organised in order to produce quotas for the Inca state and large storage buildings (qollqa) were built.

Never wholly subjugated to Inca rule, the Wanka were often embroiled in border disputes with their neighbours the Xauxa, and the Incas describe the Wanka as being continuously plagued by internal disputes. Nevertheless, they became keen allies of Pizarro in his conquest of the Inca Empire. The Wankas also helped the Spanish Crown put down several rebellions in the early decades of colonial rule in Peru, notably the defeat of Francisco Hernández Girón between 1553 and 1554 CE. Their name lives on today with the Peruvian city and province of Huancayo being named after them, as is the local football team Deportivo Wanka.

Continue reading...

[dance-world]

Esteban Hernandez - San Francisco Ballet - photo by Erik Sawaya

[beautyunderthewaves]

Francisco Jesús Navarro Hernández

[pavelzacha]

I need more of them in my life

[madame-fear]

𐙚 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐈𝐓, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘.ᐟ

ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : author has NO idea how strip clubs work so I had to do some research and ask for help,, honourary mention to my love @lady-ashfade for helping me out ♡ also,, this fic was inspired in the song Vegas by Joseline Hernández !! I badly cringed at myself the entire time but hope you guys like it ahhdjfkf rip ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : you are Fran’s favourite stripper; and he’s your favourite client who seems to adore you a bit too much. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 2.4k

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : smut. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Francisco Romero x Stripper!Reader

WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; Fran being a little bit obsessed with you, him begging to cum inside of you, unprotected sex, P in V, cowgirl position, him being a bit possesive over you, profanity, dirty talk, use of pet names, creampie.— let me know if I forgot about something else!

The blonde haired Argentine was often referred to as your “favourite, most exclusive client”.

The very first moment your sight spotted his presence amidst the large crowd of swooning men in the strip club where you worked, you felt surprised of seeing him. Surprised, because of how much of a sweet angel he seemed— if you saw him outside your work, you would never expect him to be a frequent visitor to strip clubs, or be as filthy as he was. His sweet light green eyes and delicate features were nastily deceptive.

Just like Francisco had grown to become your favourite client, you were his one and only favourite girl. It had quickly became an habit for him to pay you great amounts of money all the time, gift you small things for you to wear or have, often visit you — almost daily —, and the Argentine always had the most gentle, yet dominant treat with you; keeping the perfect balance. He had his ways of spoiling you, there was no denying about it.

Francisco paid extra money for you to give him priority over any other man, and even to spend more time with you. Though, often, you always expected him at the end of your shift; and that way, you would be with no one else after him. You could make him go bankrupt, and he wouldn’t be able to care any less. Most of his paychecks fell right into your hands, or slipped under the waistband of your underwear.

That devotion, and the constant worshipping Fran gave you, was what made you helplessly show more interest over him than over anyone else. The man knew how to make you feel special, as well as he knew the exact things you liked, and disliked.

Ever since his green eyes laid on your own, and his thin, long fingers caressed your skin for the first time, it began existing inside of him the constant struggle between feeling heavy lust, and a fervent adoration for you— hell, Fran had even grown to despise the other men trying to woo you constantly, showering you with their money whenever you pulled out a show on the pole. Could it be classified as a growing obsession? Perhaps. Did you care? Quite the contrary, you appreciated the special attention from him, and in return, you would gladly reciprocate it by serving him in any way he desired.

“Your favourite man is here,” a coworker announced quickly, with a small grin, before disappearing from sight to focus on other clients— letting the blonde haired Argentine enter the private room where you served your own exclusive clients. The mere sight of his — rather tall — presence was more than enough to lift your mood. A toothy grin was immediatly spread widely across your features.

“Hello, sweet bunny.” how come the simple sound of his loving voice was enough to make you melt? Let alone the nicknames Fran graced you with often. The sound of the blaring music coming from the speakers of the strip club became a faint background noise as you could only focus on him at the moment. The rest of your surroundings couldn’t matter less, as you approached closer to him.

“Hope you aren’t too tired for me?” you scoffed at the silly, teasing question. His arms were wrapped around your waist, immediatly pulling you against his body as tightly as possible. Your hands clawed at his clothing, encouraging him to approach the large bed with you. A smile grew wider on the corner of your lips, feeling a growing bulge on his trousers meekly poke your stomach.

How sweet it was, having him all horny and desperately needy for you already.

“I could never be tired for my favourite client.” you said, pulling his clothing towards you. “Actually, I’ve been waiting all day long for you. We shouldn’t be wasting any more time.” a satisfied smirk appeared on his thin rosy lips. Pride filled him almost immediatly at hearing those words spurring from your lips— the entirety of your being made him painfully dread his erection, strained by his pants. “No, we shouldn’t.” he retorted, quietly.

Swiftly, you managed to gently push him against the bed right behind of him. Foreplay was something you both fervently enjoyed, and often engaged in right before fucking as it made the experience more pleasurable; but at the moment, there was no need for any foreplay. There was no denying that you were equally horny for each other, all you needed was to be in the same room together for you to already grow moist and him, to grow hard.

The Argentine’s back rested against the silk sheets of the large bed, his bright green eyes admiring the way you smoothly crawled on top of him. There was no doubt about why so many men swooned right behind of you, despite the jealousy he felt for each one of them— you were such a temptress, and you were quite good at every single little thing you did.

As you leaned closer towards his face, grasping your lips against his own in a teasing manner, allowing your hot breathing to hit against his sensitive skin, you leisurely rubbed yourself against his notoriously growing bulge. The hot fabric of your underwear was moist enough for him to feel it through his still clothed erection with each friction, the same way you could already feel his precum staining his own pants.

“Please let me cum inside of you today,” he muttered in a plea against your lips, “I will pay you even more than the usual, if necessary.”

Involuntarily, his hips moved desperately against your own, as his hands firmly took hold of your waist; groaning quietly as your cunt ached to feel his cock buried inside of you already. A scoff spurred from your lips at his proposal, inevitably feeling a wave of pride at the sight of him desperately begging to fill you with his hot fluids.

“Deal.” you whispered against his lips approvingly, as a sigh of relief hit faintly against your own skin. The idea of it seemed tempting enough— after all, you had to admit the thought of having his cum oozing out of you made your underwear become wetter.

As one o your hands fervidly caressed his chest, you sat properly enough to prepare yourself to ride him. Moving your sight downwards, your hands wasted no time in unbuttoning his trousers, and immediatly lowering them. The sweet sight of his prominent erection brought pure satisfaction to you— teasingly using your fingers to slip them under the waistband of his boxers, and slowly lower them.

“I will never get tired of seeing you so desperate to bury your cock inside of me, gorgeous.” you teased, finally lowering his underwear enough for his erection to be freed from being painfully strained against the clothing, with precum already leaking from the tip. “Don’t tease, please.” he begged, observing how you removed your own panties in the slowest manner possible, only to throw them somewhere across the room and leave them long forgotten.

Widely spreading your legs, you aligned your own aching pussy with his hardened cock. Firmly brushing the entrance of your cunt against his leaking tip, lubricating it slightly with your moistness, your eyes moved their sight towards his own. “Don’t worry, my sweet love. I won’t be teasing much.” you mumbled, gasping softly as his hands held a tight grip on your waist. “I plan on fucking you until I can fully dry out your cock.”

Gently, your hips moved downwards. A groan deeply escaped from your throat as his cock began entering you. His rosy lips were partly open, allowing a satisfied gasp to escape from them as his head was thrown back— fluttering his eyes shut, his hips moved upwards while his hands guided your own to bury himself deeper. The feeling of your inner walls engulfing his own member was something Fran could never get bored of.

“Fuck,” you heard the blonde Argentine muttering. Countless of times you had him fucking you fervently in every corner of the room, in every position you could imagine— yet, every time where Fran fucked you again, it managed to be even better than the last time. Gods, your cunt felt almost like a pool from all the wetness dripping; helping him slide his cock inside you more easily, working as a lubricant.

Another groan spurred helplessly from your lips, reaching all the way down his cock, now throwing your own head back from the overwhleming wave of pleasure you received. The way you took the entirety of his shaft could be considered a grace to the sight. “You are such a fucking whore, aren’t you?” Fran remarked, beginning to slowly slide in, and out of your pussy. “Taking my cock so well, like a good slut.”

As one of his hands kept itself gripping hard from your waist, his other hand moved upwards towards one of your breasts, which moved along your own body while you rode him— lowering part of your bra to expose your tit, he took it into his hand, and began gropping it possesively as his shaft increased the pace in which it penetrated you, occasionally passing his thumb through your nipple to stimulate you further. “But you are my good slut, and no one will ever fuck you as I do.”

With each passing second, his cock began burying itself deeper and faster inside of you, provoking a fleshy sound to be hard across the room, hitting that certain soft spot that made whiny pleas escape from your lips so beautifully. His name was faintly heard under your breath, continously moaning it as your legs began trembling. Francisco knew exactly the spot where you were the most sensitive, and he would endlessly abuse it.

“Fuck—” you growled in between your teeth. Both your hands rested on his chest, seeking some sort of balance, nearly clawing at his remaining clothes, as his slick-coated cock increased the pace in which it slipped in and out of your stimulated pussy. A knot slowly formed on your stomach with the passing of the time, while your body violenty trembled. A proud grin occupied his lips at the sight of you nibbling on your lowr lip, holding back soft grunts and pants.

“Mine, all mine. Right?” he teased in between his panting, using his thumb to lazily caress your hip. “A-All yours,” you replied back weakly, helplessly allowing some slightly high-pitched whines to escape. With each hit that your inner soft spot received, the feeling of the knot increased, tightening on your stomach. This man had the ability of nearly making you melt above him with each one of his words, his groans, moans, and his actions. You were quite privileged, knowing all of his attention could only go to you.

“I-I’m about to cum,” you heard him murmur between his grunts, barely being able to mutter a coherent response due to your own mind fog from the sexual act. You could feel his cock beginning to twitch inside of you as his movements became swifter; your inner walls warmly tightening around his member.

His other hand went back again to taking hold of your hip, and you knew that from the way both hands gripped your hips to move you up and down his cock, you would have some bruises.

A wave of heat tightened your chest as your body became weaker, practically allowing Fran to move you in whichever way pleased him, while your continously dripping slick managed to coat his shaft entirely. His fingernails dug deep on your skin as his hips slightly moved upwards, and his hands forced your body all the way down his cock, keeping you still— feeling the way it violently pulsated inside of you, his cum brought a warm sensation to your stomach.

Throwing your head back as you felt the knot on your stomach abruptly untightening, while his cum simultaneously filled your insides, from your lips spurred a — rather loud — groan, deep from your throat; the same sound the Argentine made as he released his seed in you. You could get used to the pleasant feeling of his fluids staining your inner walls, thank God you had agreed to it.

While his hands firmly continued to hold your hips, allowing his head to fall against the mattress to rest, you remained quietly still on top of him, not getting off just yet. The only sound that filled the room was that of both your panting, trying to catch your breath. Your hands and legs equally trembled, feeling your heart pounding loudly against your chest.

There was no doubt Fran was your favourite client— each time he gave you a visit, you felt exhaustingly pleased. You were left needing for more, almost as if it were impossible for you to want to let him go.

Helplessly, you gently collapsed against his body. Both your arms were lazily wrapped around him, placing your head against his chest. His fluids oozed out of your pussy slowly, sliding through your inner thighs, as his cock remained buried inside of you. With one last heavy pant, his green eyes looked down at you.

One of his hands rested on your back, using his fingertips to trace mindless shapes on your skin, as his other hand went to delicately stroke your hair. “Hope you enjoyed that, mi amor?” he inquired softly, as you kept quietly panting. You scoffed in response— what a silly question, you enjoyed every single one of his frequent visits. The mere thought of not clinging to his side throughout the whole day lately seemed dreadful. “Have I ever not enjoyed anything you do to me?” you retortes playfully, earning a chuckle from him.

A brief moment of silence loomed between the two of you. Your eyes fluttered shut peacefully, enjoying how lovingly his fingers twirled strands of your hair, and caressed your head. A little smile grew back on his lips, before interrupting the silence, looking down at you, resting your gracefully delicate body against his own.

“Would you be up to a second round if I paid you extra, sweet love?”

Moving your head to stare attentively into his light green eyes, you widely grinned back. Then again, what a silly question. How could you ever deny any of his tempting proposals?

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[musicwithoutborders]

Francisco Hernández Pla / Capella de Ministrers, Recercada a tres sobre el Pange Lingua de dos tiples y bajo con acompañiamento I Musica Barroca Valenciana, 1989