#curtilage

[alexanderrogge]

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[the-froschamethyst4]

Mr. Vargas

𖤐Pairing: Professor! Alejandro x College girl! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, age gap (23-40 yr old), blowjob, fingering, P in V, Dom!Alejandro, innocent Y/n, groping, nipple play, eating out, hair pulling, ass slapping, praising and degrading,

𖤐Summary: Professor Alejandro gets his life distracted by one of his students

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3:00PM

Alejandro sat in his office flipping through papers of his students work, but he was looking at one of his students that he has been having a bit of problems with.

“Gah-“

“Hey now…did I say you could stop?” He looks down at this certain student.

“Sorry sir,” Y/n says as her face rested close to his hard dick.

“You scored a 40% on my quiz…have you even been paying attention in my class?”

“I…” she looks down knowing she hasn’t.

“Obviously you haven’t and it shows, you scored the lowest out of everyone,” Alejandro says. He grips her hair tightly behind her head, pulling her and making her make eye contact with him.

“Ah!”

“Hush. We’re going over the ones you miss,” he yanks her up off the floor and bends her over his lap. “If you get it wrong, well, you know what happens,” he says lifting her skirt exposing her ass to him and as a warning he smacks her ass earning a yelp from her.

"A crime with a punishment of 1 year or less in jail is the definition of what word? A. Miranda, B. Arrest, C. Misdemeanor, or D. Felony?" Alejandro asked, gently rubbing her butt getting ready.

"C. M-Misdemeanor."

"Good...but why did you get it wrong if you knew? Did you get it wrong on purpose knowing I might do this to you?" He teased her.

"Next one. When the police trick someone into committing a crime that they would not otherwise commit is the definition of what word? A. Entrapment, B. Curtilage, C. Misdemeanor, or D. Felony?"

"A!" She shouts.

"And yet you got it wrong...you know everything but yet, you purposely got most of them wrong..." He smacks her butt anyways. Earning a loud yelp. "You wanted this...you wanted my attention, you got it, but why lie when you know you could just ask, and I'll give you all the attention you need," his hand went under her chin making her look up at him.

"I want your attention, Mr. Vargas," she moans.

"I know you do," he smacks her ass over and over till seeing red on her ass and a handprint on her right cheek. "And now you get a punishment," he growled.

He pulls her off his lap and stood her up on his desk, he stood between her legs, his hands went to her thighs and he started to kiss her neck, earning a soft moan from her. His hands went under her shirt and pulled it over her head.

"I give you so many opportunities to be a good girl and yet you still disobey me," he smacks her thighs this time earning a whimper.

"I-I'm sorry-"

"No, you're not, if you were you wouldn't have done what you did, you failed just for attention, that's fucking pathetic," he growls at her.

"S-Sir," he smacks her thighs again.

"You don't fucking get to speak," he says.

She bites her bottom lip holding back every word. He smirks and starts going down, he licks his lips and pull her panties down off her lower half and tossing them to the side. His head goes under her skirt licking up her wet slit.

The bottom of her skirt drapes over his head, she collapse on her elbows, her thighs wanted to close around his head but he was holding them open from closing.

She moans as his tongue was licking her up. Y/n then fell on her back, her finger joint her mouth but Alejandro's hand grabbed her wrist pulling her hand away.

"I want to hear your moans," he demands. As he goes back down on her. His hands gripping her thighs pinning them to her chest, he sits up and spits on her clit, he then starts slowly rubbing the spit on her before shoving three fingers inside of her.

Her head goes back hitting against the wood of the desk. She groans from the pain.

He looks at her face seeing her in pleasure, he smirks knowing he could make his girl feel good. Her hand goes to his wrist to keep up his pace as the other fondled with her left tit. She moans then looks at him, she knows he could treat her this good.

He then leans down and starts to lick her nipple, suck on her, and nip at her bud. She moans and holds his other wrist playing with her. She clenches around his three fingers and then he quickly pulls them out.

She whines at him.

"Oh shut up," he says, smacking her thighs. He starts unbuckling his pants and pulled out his hard cock, he rubs his tip against her wet folds teasing her.

He watches her moan and whine. Then he pushes himself inside of her, he thrusts inside of her, immediately rough and hard, she bounces up and down against him moaning and her hands trying to find a place to rest.

Alejandro smirks down at his little play thing, he holds her waist and starts pounding a bit faster and sloppier. Alejandro leans down kissing her neck and then kissing her lips.

His tongue forces its way into her mouth. Her eyes opened slightly, her gaze looked at his eyes that narrowed, they looked dead or bored.

"Flip over, on your stomach," he demands, flipping over and then grabbing her wrist holding her back. Her body off his desk and her feet felt like they were going to slip out from underneath of her.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Mr. Vargas, I'm hear to talk about my grade!" A voice was heard on the other side of his office door.

"Not now, Eliza, I'm still talking with my other student, come back in a few minutes!" Alejandro groans like he was annoyed that he was interrupted.

As he fucked Y/n his hand covered Y/n's mouth muffling her moans, but she couldn't help it. As he moves his hands drool drips from from her mouth and his palm.

"You nasty, slut," he smacks her ass earning a yelp from her.

"Ah! AH! AH!" She moans.

"Shut up," he groans.

"S-Sir, I'm-I'm going to cum," she says softly.

"Do it...but I'm not going to stop," he says, smacking her ass.

She grips the wood but of course no grip anywhere. She squeezes her eyes shut and she felt herself come on his dick, but like he said, he wasn't going to stop, he's not fucking done.

"God, you slut, you made a fucking mess," he smirks, gripping her hair and making her look at him form over her shoulder. His lips kissed hers.

"I-I'm sorry," she says.

His hand held her mouth making her quiet and then he starts picking up the pace a bit, skin slapping against each other in his office. He was rough and then he felt himself twitch inside of her and then cum leaks from his tip, he pulls out and watched cum leak from her.

He then sits in his chair, keeping Y/n against his desk, watching cum slowly leak from her. He smirks grabbing tissue and cleaning her up and then leaning forward to taste her cum.

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7:00PM

"Up...down...up...down, good girl...there you go...keep going," he was gentle, hands on her waist guiding her.

Y/n moans as she starts moving her hips so gently, grinding on him and smiling when Alejandro kisses between her breasts.

He then starts kissing and sucking on the side of her tit, she moans as her hands went to his hair.

"You're so gentle," she says.

"It's my way of apologizing for being so hard on you," and it's true. Alejandro will get all worked up and then take it all out on Y/n, then afterwards he starts being gentle and sweet with her, treating her and what she likes.

Alejandro and Y/n agreed to this type of thing when Y/n was a freshman in his class, and they made a deal that they both could help each other with their sexual needs and wants. Y/n is single and Alejandro was divorce from his ex-wife and no kids.

"Come on, amor...I want you to cum," he says with a smile.

"I'm trying," she says, moving a bit faster but his hands held her waist to keep her slow pace.

"No, no, slow, amor, slow," he says.

She just nods listening to him. She was slow, and gentle, she felt herself close again, she looks at Alejandro and then let's out a soft moan before coming, he smiles and comes as well.

"There we go," he placed his left hand on the back of her head and the other on her lower back. He gently rests her on his desk, he was above her. "We'll go one more time...I know you're tired, mi amor," he coos next to her ear as he moves slowly, her arms wrapped around his neck, her moans echoing in his ears.

[amazingarchitecturewebsite]

Prazeres 37: A Hidden Retreat in #Lisbon, Portugal by Fragmentos @fragmentos.pt. Read more: Link in bio! Photography: Ivo Tavares Studio @ivotavaresstudio. Fragmentos: An inner city hideaway. The complex was born from a project to recover and enhance the heritage of a vacant building with an extensive curtilage area. In this latter area, a single independent family housing unit was built, which we present here as Casa Prazeres 37. One of the main concerns of the design was to develop a volume as an anonymous element, blen- ding into its surroundings… #casa #portugal #архитектура www.amazingarchitecture.com ✔ A collection of the best contemporary architecture to inspire you. #design #architecture #amazingarchitecture #architect #arquitectura #luxury #realestate #life #cute #architettura #interiordesign #photooftheday #love #travel #construction #furniture #instagood #fashion #beautiful #archilovers #home #house ‎#amazing #picoftheday #architecturephotography ‎#معماری (at Lisbon, Portugal) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cj8iB4kuttX/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[abexci]

The Fool

The sun rises higher in the sky – enough to peer over the tallest sycamore and oak trees that reach to blot out the inevitable morning sunshine. Daybreak revealed the outlines of the nearby creeks and narrow concrete backroads – all coated in the decaying layer of autumn leaves that were left to brave the winter and still persisted through. There is no longer any sign of the snow that once was, no signal of the bite of winter’s reprieve. As the froth of the annual chill faded from recent memory, it gives way to the threshold of what inevitably follows – the season most celebrated by nature itself. The forest trees and the placid lakes dance with life as the winds skip across the water’s body and sing through the restless branches of trees both budding with new leaves and proudly clinging to what had survived that time of cold.

Nesting in the midst of this perfect chaos stands a house of brick. Still as the grave, with no smoke coughing from its chimney, nor activity to welcome the morning hours. It is clear that any house of reasonable stature – at this hour - would be alight with commotion as the sting of the sun’s might cuts through the windows and commands those inside to action. It is evident in the orientation that this living space was planted with deliberate care beneath the shade of nature’s defiance to time, and it may seem by design that the branches obstruct the morning call until the sun rises high into the endless sky above. The red bricks that constitute the body of the home have been marbled with disrepair, moss, and vines – as new life struggles to conquer this artificial sarcophagus of something deeper. All things material and immaterial remained still while within the shade of that home’s curtilage, as if not to disturb the respectful dead inside – or perhaps mourn a familiar casualty no longer present; there was a palpable and irrefutable stillness surrounding that place that ventured beyond the rational mind’s ability to comprehend.

Inside of that dark house there is a bed with malformed blankets and topped with scattered sheets. Beneath that smattering of dense black layers and striped linen is a man, eyes clamped shut tightly as if by force. A streak of sunshine finished its long and laborious task of slicing through the curtains and tracing across the room – touching all things from the clutter resting upon the desk, the dirty dishes lining every available surface and rotting away, and shattered glass laid out like a carpet of flowers before the face of each and every picture frame, flattened as to protect a frail mind. As that beam of light stretches from the crack in the curtains to the furthest reaches of the room, the man raises from the bed – eyes still closed. Blinking them open, he is exhausted.

Lein Cantor bears the face of shame intermingled with overwhelming apathy. The flatness of his expression is both subtle and robust – the contrast of his gaunt cheeks and darkened eyes swollen with sleep give him the appearance of a ghost. His skin appears balmy and sick, stretched thin over a body in disarray. Somehow, he displays the fundamental faults of both undernutrition and over-eating – as any athleticism has been peeled off of his bones like the youth he no longer has. A grimace and a groan escape his lips as he pushes his tongue through his teeth, tasting the repulsiveness of his unwashed mouth. His hair stands at odd angles and droops sadly in some places, untamed and unkept by nature and even more obviously so in waking. Eyes open staring forward into the nebulous void of a flatly painted wall. Emotionless, tired, and threatening to close again – they are pools of loss and despondency dried up and turned into chilled orbs within his skull.

Opening his lips again, he mouths the words:

“Beauty and Life.”

Pulling breath into his sore lungs, he applies pressure to his tough arms and looks about as he ascends from his seat there on the bed. Pushing black-tipped nails through the fangled mess of hair atop his head, he ventures a clumsy step forward and then another. Both hands rest on the top of his head for a second as he winces, as if struck by a pain neither physical nor mental. Pulling the palms of his hands back down – he drapes them over his face, concealing his features from all the world and pushing his fingertips against closed eyelids. Deep breaths. Gently he winds his hands around and drags each finger down his cheeks. Staring at that blank spot on the wall, the abyss inside called out to him. Standing stiff and glaring with emptiness, there resided in that room a tangible atmosphere of disturbed mentality, anguish, and hopelessness. Deep breaths. He traces a finger from his left arm up the deep scars running up his right wrist, terminating in a large circle on his hand. With his right hand, he touches at the subtle scar that rested just below his unshaven beard – feeling its relief extend outward from the twisted hairs. He closes his eyes and mouths the words:

“Beauty and Life.”

In the shower, the water hisses into his ear as lathered soap suds lazily flee from the top of his body and seek escape into the drain below. His eyes pulled wide and catatonic, but also half-cocked and numb. He nods slowly to himself in the silence, turning only to appraise the sunlight peering in through the frosted window pane resting above the shower – just out of reach. A sigh escapes his throat. His arms try to be motivated enough to clean Lein’s body, but there is visible and inescapable resistance. The unorganized cleaning products and outcroppings of mold clinging to the shower tile were of little interest to his unerring eye as he gazed down and beyond the floor and walls – as if idly watching oblivion unfold before him.

In the dingy, filthy, and rotten smelling kitchen area he was preparing his body for the day. Sitting on a cheap chair of teak wood, resting at a small hickory tabletop, Lein pulls a single sock over the ankle of his left foot. After he could feel the tightness of the cotton fabric against his toes, he rested his foot on the crumb-crusted carpet below. Readying his shoe, he pinched his toes together and gripped the tongue of the thing to slowly slide the cobbler’s work back until his heel popped into that worn, comfortable, and familiar socket. All the while staring blankly forward. He rested his left foot beside his right, both looking as reflections of one another with those beaten shoes covering wretched socks to match. His eyes are unfocused and glazed, not even paying much mind to the bowl of cereal resting with a spoon of tarnished silver steeped into its contents. Adjusting his seat, he placed his right elbow on the table. Staring forward, he placed his fingers on the grip of the spoon – putting it up to and into his mouth. Pulling the spoon away he chewed. Staring. No passion. Lifelessness. As he continued, he reached for his chest, clutching at a small object tucked beneath the safety of his unremarkable shirt.

In the dusty hallways that twisted about that residence, Lein pulls tightened fabric gloves over each hand as he walks. Patting at the wrists, he ensures that they bite into his skin enough to coerce the pieces to remain in place. The flanged opening extruded enough to create a protective layer between his sleeve and the glove so that it would be exceedingly difficult for anyone else to see the scars carved into his flesh. Looking down and pondering the gloves, he walks by a dark corner of the home where the air does not move. That stale section of the hallway where a singular door remained embedded in the bones of that home - a door of dark oak wood that stands like an unholy obelisk in the midst of that walkway. Coldly, he walks by it, never minding the oak door’s numerous locks, bolts, and the chain fastened to its body to ensure that it could not be opened. Staring on, he ensured that his gloves hid his scars from the world beyond, and continued. Then he stops. There is a twitch in his spine. The temptation to turn and look at the door. He resists. Agony strains across his face as he pushes air through his teeth. Taking one step after the other, he mutters to himself:

“Beauty and Life.”

At the wheel of his car, he commits to that languid commute to work. Music tills the air with its passing glory, albeit at a nearly muted volume. Carelessly, he stares at the road before him. Foot on the break, hands on the wheel. Rotating his wrist to access the blinker,  turning the anklebone from one side to the other he alternated between gas and brakes to affect his speed. Cars drove by him and continue to do so, overtaking with greater speed. He does not pay them mind. The conventional trappings of the more rural spots outside of town dwindled and gave way to a realm of concrete and sterility. The overwhelming flavor of dispassion is choking. The glare of brake lights was blinding enough to cause anyone to flinch, but Lein he does not – he simply presses on the brake and waits for the inevitable. Sitting in that driver’s seat and slowly nurturing his car through the clot of traffic beyond, he continues that blank and emotionless glare. As if searching for a reprieve, he looks to the side and spies a billboard. Its letters and wording a bright beacon of liveliness and joy designed to attract and entertain the onlooker. He sighs and turns his eyes back to the road in further defeat. Other drivers are honking, screaming, yelling – frustrated and careless all around. Unmoved, he stares beyond his windshield and beyond the car in front of him and beyond the road and beyond all that there ever will be – and beyond all that there ever could have been. He sends a hand to explore the top of his colorless shirt, tracing a finger back and forth over a small object hidden beneath.

Tucked away behind some decorative rubber plants and a few stair steps, he sits in a half-lit room perched at a desk. Lein is distracted for a moment by the dripping of a leaky ceiling weeping into a ready bucket near him on the floor, but then returns his attention to the desk once more. Staring at the artificial light of a computer screen shooting towards his iris, he simply sits and looks on. The clamber of life and movement that workplace holds exists beyond an invisible and intangible barrier that cannot be penetrated by means natural or fantastical. Work is a thing that demands effort, and all in that building exerted great and overwhelming strength to their task. Fingers dance a ballet of fluid thought and designed executions to elicit the appropriate response on the screen before him. Words crawl across the screen quickly at times, slowly at others, and often not at all. He pauses. Looking down he opens his mouth and grips at his chest. The feeling of that familiar object seems to allow him to breathe, releasing from the deep inhale he had. A tear rolls down his face. His brow furrows. One unwelcome emotion drowned out by the determination of the next. As the workplace is abuzz with life, he wavers there in his own mind. Staring at the screen, the clock clicks over to the next minute – then again – then again. There is no expression on his face anymore, a surrender to the bleak and amorphous nothingness inside.

A coworker walks around the rubber plants.

Lein smiles brightly and rolls his arms back, brushing at his beard, he swats away the unkempt outliers as his workmate approaches. Words are exchanged. A file is placed onto Lein’s desk. He smiles. They both smile. The coworker leaves. Lein’s smile fades in a breath. Looking down, he stares at the file. Holding it in his hands, he opens it and begins his routine of work. Routine of measuring, quantifying, writing, and then having to smile to do it all again. There was no light inside of him, it was all a façade. The workplace continues to be alive with effort and determination. There in the shadows, Lein carved out a portion to survive. He looks wearily on, entranced by the bucket of water beside his desk, as it slowly fills up with water, he wonders how long it would take to overflow.

In that bed, the light of the nearly full moon and the splendor of starlight rushed through the cracked window curtains and onto the face of that particularly perturbed man. On that mattress, he curls his legs and arms inward – like a life before birth. Eyes and ears numb to it all. Body and living space a mess, the silence is broken by the force of a single sob. The pitch dark of that room covered him from being seen – seen by imaginary spectators, by phantasms of the past, by ghosts of the future, by himself. In this light of a waxing moon all but full, his tears shimmered. Slowly he turned to the moonlight, staring up at that enigmatic omen hanging effortlessly in the night sky as a mother to all the stars beyond. The blank expression gave way in that precious moment for another: longing. There is no telling how much time might pass where he stays in this moment. Sitting forward, he commits himself to look at the moon. There is no rest to be had tonight.

Eyes shoot open. He tumbles from the filth of his unorganized bed. Visibly shaken and trembling in his hands, he bites on a knuckle. Fear and confusion painted across his face like a tapestry of emotion, he looks about his room. Realizing that he had managed to sleep for some time, he sits at the edge of his bed. In his undergarments he places his hands on the sides of his neck and pushes his arms back, motioning his head down. Fingers folded together behind his neck, he applied pressure with his arms to make a cradle for himself. Shaking his head, he fought back the tears. Silent screams were a ward to all things living. The picture frames sat like flattened corpses in a pool of their own glass blood – all covered in heaps of dust and neglect that continue to grow and waste. Lein wipes his face clean of snot and moisture. He curls his lips inward, determined to get up. He does not get up. He can’t. But he must.

There are many people at the grocery store, all speaking and trudging through to the next item on their list. Lein walks amongst them, pushing a nearly empty cart forward. He is somehow faster than everyone here, more efficient. While others browse or make small talk in consideration for their purchase, he simply walks to the item he is familiar with and places one of them into his cart. His face is flattened, completely devoid of humanity. He marches through the isles in complete disregard for others – reaching out to grab the things he needs. Robotic, unnatural. Most everyone pays him no mind, but those who draw very close grow inherently uncomfortable and displeased with his presence. One foot in front of the other. He rests his cart at the foot of an aisle, ready to offload his selection. The cart is hardly full, it would have been more reasonable for Lein to have used a basket. Not enough to fulfill his method. As he leans down and picks up each item individually from the safety of the cart to place onto the conveyor belt, the man smiles. He spoke warm words towards the cashier, there was an interaction. Opening his reedy wallet, he extracted a few food stamps and a coupon. Placing them down for the cashier, he smirked with confidence and said something dismissive. There was no shame, there was no humility, it was formulaic and routine. The cashier recognized Lein and smiled back, handing the man a receipt. As he turned to walk away, the smile and joy vaporized into the ether from which it was conjured.

In that kitchen, mired in a shroud of filth and grime that would take days if not weeks to clean out, Lein methodically placed each and every item from the shopping list away. His movements slow and resigned. His hands gripped at a box of cereal, and gambled just how much energy it truly took to lift it up. With a hand on a jug of milk he hoisted the object into the air and turned to go to the fridge. Placing his off-hand onto the handle, he lazily tugged at the sealed unit until it opened its door. About to place the milk inside, he hesitated. Staring, only staring. Those sad, blank eyes glared into that all-but-completely-empty fridge. With his off hand again, he slowly placed his hand on his chest and rubbed lightly, feeling the bump of that special item beneath. Pain. So strong in every way that was not physical that it bult a bridge and elicited a sting in the back of his head. He winced and began to shake. Controlling his nerves after a second proved a challenge, but not an impossibility. He pushed the carton of milk to the back of the fridge and closed the door. Rubbing the back of his head, he looked about the room. The place was complete filth. His soul drowned in that moment in an ocean of hopelessness – a feeling so visceral and basic that any eye that may have seen him in this moment would know as much was stirring in his heart.

The bright afternoon sun bathes the clean sidewalks and bustling streets of the inner city in priceless light. The downtown air is alive with people, machines, and systems designed to intermingle them both. Crosswalks sing out a siren call for others to hear, the din of thousands of distant conversations created a floor for all sound in that city. The chime of vehicles of all shapes and sizes moving along at different pacing creates a clashing chorus of chaos. In the beating heart of this scene, Lein walks with projected confidence. His gait is uninterrupted and determined. It would seem as though he had a task, although there is no telling to any soul neither alive nor dead what that task might be. With his long gray coat and worn-down tee shirt he continues along the Main Street sidewalk. He seems all but completely lost, his face was addled with negativity when it was not absolutely bereft of emotion at all. His eyes were not settled forward as usual, but were jumping around from place to place. Clutching his chest, he massaged gently at what was beneath. He’s choking back tears. The sights were too much. He had to be here, but he didn’t. He didn’t have a choice, but it was a mistake. No soul, near or far, changes their walk or look to accommodate or even avoid him. Isolated in that crowd, he wipes away a single streak from his cheek before anyone could notice – not that they might do anything about it. He was weak. He is lost.

The silence of a remote setting is a natural part of this lakeside area. A pond large enough to be tempting for any boater resting in the midst of a grand and wonderful forest. The distant birds sing their songs and utter their cries as they fly across the open air. The gentle buzz of tiny insects dancing with life above the waters – and the intermittent glow of certain species as they travel to and from in groups. The twilight hour is approaching and the sunset is that of divine artistic musings. The wind is soft and quiet, while the crickets and other insects reach out with voices of their own. It is a serene and placid place. Lein rests back on his arms, hands planted firmly in the soil below. Feeling that gentle breeze on his skin, hearing the song of nature, and squeezing the clot of grass beneath his hand – it was God’s own therapy. Eyes closed and simply existing in that moment, he chokes back sobs. Tears stream down his face as he sits here alone at the lake. All in the same moment, he stared forward – his face completely numb. There in the face of nature, Lein sits on its pedestal and remains catatonic and closed. He was seeing something, but it was nothing that would move his hands or feet. He was feeling something, but it was nothing that would validate his heart. He knew something, but it was not enough to aid his failing mind.

In the stillness, glaring forward and unmoving, he whispers a prayer. It was something that comes from deep within, and is not of his own desires.

As he let out a sigh, more tears ran down his face and snot began to bubble from his nostrils. The petrichor of life itself filled his lungs and was in full display to all of his senses. He is closed. He is forsaken. There is no hope.

Deep breaths.

Whispering quietly, he utters the words:

“Beauty and Life.”

[westonmickey]

Extensive Report: Curtilage Protections in California By Weston Mickey Chico Ca

**Extensive Report: Curtilage Protections in California**

**I. Introduction**

- Curtilage, the immediate area surrounding a home, holds paramount significance in Fourth Amendment jurisprudence, ensuring that individuals are shielded from unreasonable searches and seizures. This extensive report offers an in-depth exploration of curtilage protections in California, tracing their historical evolution, analyzing notable case law, considering their contemporary implications, and drawing on insights from legal scholars.

**II. Historical Origins of Curtilage Protections**

- The concept of curtilage protections has deep historical roots, originating in English common law. Legal scholars such as William Blackstone underscored the sanctity of the home, influencing early American jurisprudence.

- Akhil Reed Amar's scholarship delves into the historical evolution of the Fourth Amendment, highlighting its critical role in safeguarding individual privacy and property rights.

**III. California's Legal Framework**

- California boasts a unique legal landscape that significantly influences curtilage protections. Legal scholar Erwin Chemerinsky's comprehensive analysis emphasizes the state's robust constitutional provisions and statutes, reinforcing the importance of curtilage protections in California.

- Chemerinsky's research underscores the distinctiveness of California's legal framework, particularly in the context of privacy rights. His analysis sheds light on how the state's legal heritage shapes the interpretation and application of curtilage protections.

- Furthermore, California's legal uniqueness stems from its historical role as a trendsetter in legal matters, serving as a source of precedent and influence for other states.

**IV. Evolution of Curtilage Interpretation**

- The evolution of curtilage protections has been shaped by key U.S. Supreme Court decisions. The writings of former Justice Antonin Scalia, particularly in cases like *Florida v. Jardines* (2013), emphasize the significance of property rights and the delineation of curtilage boundaries.

- Further insights from legal scholars like Tracey Maclin contribute to vigorous debates about curtilage, analyzing nuances such as exigent circumstances and the reasonable expectation of privacy.

- Scholarly works by David Sklansky explore the societal implications of curtilage protections, emphasizing their role in maintaining a balance between law enforcement's needs and individual privacy.

**V. Modern Technological Challenges**

- In the digital age, the challenges to curtilage protections have expanded. Orin Kerr's scholarship addresses the intricacies of emerging technologies and their impact on Fourth Amendment jurisprudence, providing valuable perspectives on the evolving concept of curtilage.

- Legal scholar Ryan Calo, affiliated with organizations like the Center for Internet and Society, explores the intersection of technology and curtilage, examining how digital advancements raise new questions about privacy rights.

- Paul Ohm's research delves into the concept of "digital curtilage" in the age of smart homes, discussing how the Internet of Things affects the boundaries of privacy within a residence.

**VI. Privacy Advocacy and Public Awareness**

- Privacy advocacy groups, including the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) and the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), collaborate with legal scholars to raise public awareness. Their research informs critical public discourse about technology's implications for curtilage and privacy rights.

**VII. Ongoing Legal Debates**

- Contemporary legal debates regarding curtilage protections are informed by scholarly research. Scholars like Laura Donohue, engaged in comparative law, examine how different jurisdictions approach curtilage protections, offering valuable insights into their application beyond California's borders.

- Legal scholar Tracey Meares contributes to discussions about community-based policing and the impact of curtilage protections on police-community relations, shedding light on the social dimensions of the law.

**VIII. Relevant California Case Law (Additional)**

- *People v. Kokes* (1998) 61 Cal. App. 4th 664:

- This case clarified the distinction between curtilage and open fields, offering guidance on the application of Fourth Amendment protections.

- *People v. Macabeo* (2017) 2 Cal. 5th 840:

- The California Supreme Court's decision reinforced the need for law enforcement to obtain warrants when entering curtilage, even under exigent circumstances.

- *People v. Blair* (2003) 31 Cal. 4th 125:

- This case examined curtilage boundaries, including areas like driveways, contributing nuance to the definition of curtilage.

- *People v. Bailey* (1985) 176 Cal. App. 3d 402:

- A landmark decision that affirmed the necessity of curtilage protection and the requirement of warrants for searches in California.

- *People v. Thompson* (2006) 38 Cal. 4th 811:

- Clarifying curtilage boundaries beyond immediate proximity to the home, this case emphasized the importance of a reasonable expectation of privacy.

- *People v. Rinehart* (2009) 176 Cal. App. 4th 508:

- Introducing factors to consider in determining curtilage extent, such as proximity, usage, and enclosure.

**IX. Technological Challenges in the Digital Age**

- The landmark case of *Carpenter v. United States* (2018)

585 U.S. ___ significantly extended curtilage concepts to the digital realm. This case addressed the privacy implications of cell phone location data, setting a precedent for digital curtilage.

**X. Ongoing Legal Implications**

- As technology and legal standards continue to evolve, the future of curtilage protections in California remains dynamic. Emerging technologies, ongoing cases, and legislative developments will significantly shape the trajectory of these protections.

**XI. Conclusion**

- This extensive report has provided an intricate historical backdrop, strong legal foundations, a comprehensive examination of the contemporary challenges surrounding curtilage protections in California, and additional analysis from legal scholars. Incorporating insights from legal scholars, additional case law, and an analysis of the law's evolution, it offers a holistic understanding of how curtilage safeguards individual privacy rights within the state. The multifaceted landscape of curtilage remains a critical component of Fourth Amendment protections in California, preserving the sanctity of the home and its surroundings.

--- Weston Mickey

1. #WestonMickey

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[pinnacleautomotivewoodridge]

Pinnacle Automotive Woodridge, Illinois

There ar several choices For automobile Repair outlets - select the correct One For You

Finding an honest look is terribly troublesome. There ar such a large amount of mechanics to settle on from, and to the common one who is aware of very little regarding what to seem for, this explore for an honest mechanic is dangerous. thus here ar the inquiries to raise yourself before you decide:

1 - search for a mechanic or automobile store that includes a sensible name.

One of the simplest ways in which to search out an honest automobile store is to raise around. raise friends and family that automobile store or mechanic they use. Some automobile repair outlets throw bundle into advertising and promotion, however name can not be bought, and that is why name is thus necessary.

2 - Prescreen AN automobile store or automobile mechanic.

The best thanks to prescreen your prospect your prospective long-run mechanic or automobile store is to require your automobile certain general maintenance like oil, transmission fluid, and neral preventive maintenance work. If the mechanics treat you with respect and also the general vibration is sweet then that is an excellent begin. Also, search for skinny, search for things just like the cleanliness of the look and observe certifications and award plaques on the wall. If everything looks legitimate, then perhaps this is often the place wherever you must get major repairs done.

3 - The distinction between a national chain automobile repair, a in private owned automobile repair, and a curtilage mechanic.

There ar several kinds of automobile repair in everyone's space. the primary form of automobile {repair look|fix-it shop|shop|store} that i will describe may be a national chain shop. the great issue regarding national chains is that you simply is certain that their mechanics ar A.S.E. Certified. And also, national chain outlets like Charles Goodyear, Tuffy, and every one the remainder sometimes have nice warranties. There ar anyplace from thirty days to ninety days on components and/or labor. the downside is that national chains ar dearer in most cases than what a in private owned automobile store charges.

Privately owned outlets ar less costly and oft offer identical quality of service because the massive national chains do. simply make sure to examine that the look includes a.S.E.-certified mechanics, most do.

Pinnacle Automotive in Woodridge is risky to figure with as a result of they typically haven't got the right diagnostic instrumentality to notice what the mechanical issue is or the acceptable tools to try and do the work required. And dump A.S.E. certification! On the opposite hand, everyone must begin somewhere. I even have had friends and alleged Pinnacle Automotive mechanics work on behalf of me and not have any issues.

A good Pinnacle Automotive in Woodridge is aware of and can tell you his limitations. as an example, putting in a starter or AN generator may well be a 15-minute job. On the opposite hand, replacement a transmission may be a pretty massive deal. the simplest issue {to do|to try to to|to try ANd do} is to require your vehicle into an automobile look with the acceptable diagnostic tools in order that you'll apprehend what must be fastened. Once you recognize what it's that is broken, you will apprehend what must be fastened. From that time, you'll decide if a curtilage mechanic is that the right selection for you.

[villageandcottage]

Are All Thatched Cottages Listed?

When you think of thatched cottages, it’s fair to assume you imagine old buildings.

In the UK, therefore, it’s reasonable to ask, are all thatched cottages listed? Roughly 75% of all thatched cottages in the UK are listed buildings. This is mainly due to their age and, by extension, their historic significance. Any thatched cottages that aren’t listed are typically newer buildings rather than not being historically significant.

In this article, we’ll look at why thatched cottages are listed, what this actually means, and how it could affect you when living in one.

What is a Listed Building?

The most obvious place to start is by defining a listed building. In short, a listed building is one that’s registered with the National Heritage List because of its age and historical significance. Every property in England built before 1700 is listed, and most built up until 1840 are, too.

Across the UK, there are roughly 400,000 listed buildings. These are divided into the following categories:

·  Grade I: the highest grade, meaning they have the most importance. They make up around 2.5% of the total.

·  Grade II*: buildings of importance more than interest, such as stately homes, city centre buildings, etc. They make up around 5.8% of the total.

·  Grade II: the ‘lowest’ grade made up of buildings of special interest. This constitutes around 91.7% of all listed buildings.

Checking if a Building is Listed

You’ll probably already know if you live in a listed building because it’s intentionally very obvious information. However, if you’d like to check whether a building is listed, you simply look on the National Heritage List. To do so, you need a keyword, postcode, or the building’s list number.

Grade 2 Listed Thatched Cottage

As mentioned, a grade 2 listed property is the lowest level. It means you have a bit more freedom with the property than those in grade 1 listed buildings, but there are still plenty of restrictions on what you can do.

First, it’s worth noting what the listing doesn’t cover:

·  Later extensions (i.e., anything built after the building was listed)

·  Other attached structures (such as a garage or storage building)

·  Any buildings on the land built before 1948. The official term is curtilage.

This is just a guide, as the specifics will differ for every listed property. If you want to make any changes or want to know what’s covered, speak to your local planning authority first.

What Does Listing Prevent?

Living in a listed building means you need to be careful with what you do, how you do it, and who you employ. The general restriction is on changes that’ll impact the building’s appearance and historical significance.

Some examples include:

Removing existing features

This is a big one in grade 2 listed buildings. You’re strictly not allowed to remove original or existing features. These include fireplaces, windows, doors, etc. You might be able to change them slightly, but that’s not a guarantee.

The garden

Many grade 2 listed thatched cottages have pristine gardens, and for good reason. It’s not uncommon for the listing to cover aspects of the garden and surrounding land. This could include anything from gates and trees to layouts and even plants growing up the cottage. Make sure you’re completely aware of what your listing covers.

Using the correct methods

Often, modern construction techniques are banned on grade 2 listed cottages. For example, you won’t be able to use concrete if the walls are lime mortar, and you’ll probably be restricted in what finishes or renders you can use.

The exact restrictions will depend on the listing details of the building. That said, it’s almost a blanket ban on using modern techniques and materials if it’ll impact the original structure in any way. Again, check with the planning office for details about your building.

Thatching

Now for the most important aspect: the thatching. Listed properties aren’t on the list simply because they’re thatched, but it’ll always be a significant part of their historical interest.

This means you’ll need to use the correct thatching method when the roof needs replacing. It’ll impact style and materials. You might even have to use a thatcher recommended by the planning authority, but this’ll depend on the significance of your property.

Why are Thatched Cottages Listed?

The main reason thatched cottages are so commonly listed is that they’re old. There are more than 60,000 thatched properties in the UK, and 75% of these are either grade 1 or 2 listed.

For a thatched cottage to be listed, it needs to meet the criteria for being of special interest. This can mean a few things:

·  Someone nationally important lived there

·  It’s historically important

·  There are ties to the local economic, social or cultural history

·  There’s a military link

For thatched cottages, it’ll most often be an economic or cultural link. This could be that it was, for example, the cottage of a local figure such as a merchant. Alternatively, it could be a prime example of a particular style of construction. Finally, it could be that the thatched cottage is simply nice to look at and exemplifies everything correct about the English countryside.

But on the flip side, why aren’t all thatched properties listed?

The simple answer is that it’s still a roofing technique used today on newer buildings. These have no reason to be listed because they don’t have any kind of cultural importance yet.

Thatched Properties

If you like the idea of living in a listed thatched property, it’s worth considering the responsibilities this involves. These include:

Constant Maintenance

Thatch alone requires maintenance, at least compared to tile roofs. You’ll get around 20 years out of a thatched roof, and it costs money to replace it every time.

The maintenance aspect is true of the rest of the building. Old properties look great, but they’re not without their needs. Replacing things that go wrong is more difficult than in a non-listed building.

It’s Restrictive

The list above is just an example of the sort of things you can’t do on a listed building. If you have your eye on one, make sure you have a complete survey done.

Also, consider speaking to someone in the local planning office well in advance with any ideas you might have. While they won’t give a conclusive answer, you should be able to get an idea of what’s allowed.

Finally, bear in mind that unauthorised changes to a listed building are a criminal offence. At best, the planning office will get you to reverse the changes. At worst, you won’t be able to resell because you’ll be missing a Listed Building Consent form.

It’s Expensive

Unsurprisingly, all this adds up. Living in a listed thatched property is expensive compared to living in a non-listed building. Even the building insurance is more expensive than it would be elsewhere.

However, this isn’t to undersell thatched cottages. They’re popular and highly desirable, and for good reason. The bottom line is to be pragmatic in your decisions and understand the level of responsibility living in a listed building requires.

Final Thoughts on Listed Thatched Cottages

The National Heritage List is arguably one of the most English things in existence. It’s hardly surprising, then, that thatched cottages feature quite heavily on the list.

Hopefully, you’ve now got a better idea of what being a listed building means and how it impacts living in one. Don’t let it put you off, though, because listed thatched cottages will almost always be their own investment.

source https://villageandcottage.com/cottages/are-all-thatched-cottages-listed/

[platypusism]

Collins v Virginia Supreme Court Case Important Protection for 4th Amendment

The word "curtilage" isn't a common one. It is defined as "an area of land attached to a house and forming one enclosure with it." which still doesn't really tell us much. The easiest way to think of it is the area around your house. Some cops went onto a property and searched a motorcycle under a tarp. The owner said they had no right to do that because it was on private property. The case ended up before the Supreme Court which handed down their ruling. Click through to the blog for details and a copy of the ruling itself.

I like to share the text of the 4th Amendment whenever I get the chance. It serves as a reminder of the limitations of government and the right of the people in relation to their property. It reads simply:

The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but…

[moodboardmix]

Smriti Curtilage, Yanlord Land, Suzhou City, China,

T.K. Chu Design

[myhouseidea]

T.K. Chu projects a note of duality and his thinking of traditional Chinese philosophies into this modern oasis. Suzhou is the cradle of Coupling Garden, whom preserves the legacy of the dual qualities of Suzhou: modernity and tradition. Embedded on a secluded retreat, enclosed by tranquil nature, equipped with a verdant backyard, the residence is a classic microcosm of Suzhou Gardens. The residence is in the proximity of a courtyard named ‘Ŏu Yuán (耦园)’ (Couple’s Retreat Garden; Ŏu Yuán) which is recognised as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2000. Photography courtesy of Wang Ting.

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.

T. K. Chu nestled a serenely elegant home built around a courtyard. There is a weighty dose of contagious serenity spreading from the courtyard to the interior through the sliding glass doors, which open to a limpid pool and a Zen garden where bamboos and grasses send off refreshing aroma to the interior after a short spell of rain. Coming closer to the doors is like coming onto a threshold of a private Zen world.

Outwardly, it is the presence of naturalistic artistry; inwardly, simplistic modernity. The subtle duality is what T.K. Chu would love to explore and invest.

The propensity for duality in China may elude Westerners, simply to put, duality is the dual juxtaposition in a pair. Different from the notion of trinity, duality is starred in the design with a singular focus: spreading the gospel of harmonies in a very Chinese manner.

Granted that the notion is a little bit indecipherable, it comes more acceptable in a form of verticality and linearity, angularity and irregularity — The marbles being finely cut, the hallway being replete with geometric expressions, the rocks and trees boasting their untrimmed appearance — the duality is unified within the residence but divided by the windows.

The designer gives his explanation on the concept of his design, which is grounded on a strong form of externalisation of traditional Chinese philosophies: individuals being manifesting their humblest demeanor in an effort to show reverence to the Mother Nature and reach the oneness with the nature. That’s why the elements of nature is literally everywhere in the space.

Full-height windows connect with the outdoors scattering light in to illuminate the space.

The consistency of neutral tones flows throughout the main level. The kitchen focuses more on the elegance of the ambient conditions whereby there are fewer distractions from savouring every mouthful of cuisines with preoccupied relish.

The staircase is more like a vertical meandering sculpture leading upwards to the privacy of the dwellers.

The sculpture, Coupling, by PoLin Yang The sculpture receives the bulk of the effort that was put into the enhancement of ‘coupling’. Created by a figurative artist, PoLin Yang, the silhouette of it stays true to the intimacy and interdependence of dual elements. T.K. Chu wants to modernise the space through the agent of indescribable abstraction principally because its sophistication and complexity is a gateway to evoking the emotions.

A whiskey bar is a fixture in the boutique hotel thereby to showcase the dwellers’ high air.

The liveliness thrives in the space so that it allows dwellers to unwind.

The design team opted to infuse the cohesiveness with the spaces throughout all levels without eroding away the charm of the basement. T.K. Chu does not want to see the basement is slavish to the main level insomuch that he led the team to build up the equity for it. Dwellers could be the king in the basement level, they will be free to do anything as they are pleased to.

Project specs Name：Smriti Curtilage, Yanlord Land Location: Suzhou City Site Area: 1090㎡ Completed: December, 2019 Chief Designer: T.K. Chu Category: Residence Materials: Statuari, Travertine Silver, Oak dyed gray, Paint square tube, Acrylic Sheet, PVD Stainless Steel (Gun Metal – Hairline), Brass, Spray painting, Wallpaper, Braided leather

Image credits: Wang Ting

Smriti Curtilage by T.K. Chu T.K. Chu projects a note of duality and his thinking of traditional Chinese philosophies into this modern oasis.

[tarninausta]

MILESTONE CELEBRATION 🌟 NIMLOTH + CANCER requested by @arwenindomiel

[A]nd their son Dior Eluchíl had to wife Nimloth, kinswoman of Celeborn, prince of Doriath, who was wedded to the Lady Galadriel. The sons of Dior and Nimloth were Eluréd and Elurín; and a daughter also was born to them, and she was named Elwing[.]

- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, “Of the Ruin of Doriath”

[ID: An edit for Nimloth from the Tolkien Legendarium consisting of 12 pictures. The prevalent colour is white, with red elements added. The pictures are in turn framed by a red rectangle or a red-and-white line.

White Magnolia blossoms

A picture of the Indian model Nidhil Sunil, a brown woman, wearing a white dress and silver jewelry. She’s half-hidden behind a curtain

White tulle fabric

A set of antlers and white flowers

A curtilage from a palace/mansion surrounded by pillars of pale stone

A forest floor covered in red leaves

A white gemstone

Golden star motifs embroidered on white fabric

A weeping willow with white leaves

A person wearing a white sari spinning around so their skirt flies around them

Birds in flight

Nidhil Sunil facing front, wearing a white dress and jewelry

End ID]

[crescentchat]

au where channary’s still alive and raised cinder but don’t make it kaider

you better love this i kind of like it 

Selene looked in the mirror, the only mirror in the entire palace. The only mirror on the entire moon.

Her face, un-glamoured. Hardly a pinch of makeup either.

Some semblance of an tiredness resting below her eyes, her eyelashes a little bit short. Her body somewhat boy-ish looking.

All these things about herself, they were things that when she was younger she didn't care much about. But ever since she came into the public court, her mother pounded over and over into her head, that her natural body was unfixable and broken and she needed to make it into something more presentable. If Artemisia saw something less than perfect, it would cause a sense of doubt in the people. 

That’s why Selene’s aunt, Levana, had been eliminated only a few short hours ago. For causing doubt in the people.

This also related to Selene’s first addressing to the court. 

She closed her eyes and felt her glamour wash over her. She wasn’t too sure what it looked it, but she knew it more than ethereal. 

(Without it, she was too ugly for her mother, but with it on, it was too much apparently.)

She smoothed over the bodice of her dress, like if she ran her hands over it, the crystal beading would fall off and she would have an excuse not to go out there in front of everyone. 

But Aimery was already waiting at the door, arm outstretched and ready to escort her to the balcony like she didn’t know her way around her own palace. 

Their pace was sluggish and agonizing, Selene almost wanted to break free from his linked arm and just sprint the rest of the way there. The footsteps slowly clacking against the cold, hard floor, punctuating her thoughts.  

Finally, the white ornate doors to the balcony creaked open, assaulting Selene with artificial light. The hum of the court’s chatter were bouncing off the palace curtilage. 

Her mother gave a smile, a smile that did nothing to relieve her anxiety, and probably wasn’t intended to.

Aimery arms slithered out of hers, and Selene made her way to the ledge of the balcony, her satin skirt brushing the banister. A round of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ were made at her present.

When the noise had settled down, Selene placed her white-gloved hands on the stone railing. She took a deep breath and mustered the strongest voice that she could. 

“You all are aware of the fire this morning in the right wing of the palace.” 

A round of agreement from below.

“We are deeply heartbroken to share this news-” She fought the urge to break down and sob. “My mother’s sister, Levana passed away in the fire. As did her husband Evret, and Princess Winter.”

Gasps from the beneath court drowned out any coherent thought Selene had left.

[exhome]

Smriti Curtilage Villa https://www.arscasa.com/2021/04/smriti-curtilage.html

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Sunday 11 January 1835

8 10

11 20

No kiss ground deeply covered with snow - the skylight into my dressing room so covered it was almost dark - F39° at 9 ¼ am in my study - wrote but the 1st 21 lines of Friday and all but the last 4 lines of yesterday then A- and I at 12 20 read prayers to my aunt, Mrs Oddy, Eugenie and George – the horses did not come till 2 5 – 33 minutes in going yet Mr Akroyd, who did all the duty only beginning as we entered the gallery – preached 28 minutes from 2 Corinthians X.17. a sermon so tiresome, incoherent, and profitless that after the 1st 10 minutes I had the good fortune to doze – home in 35 minutes at 4 50 – very few people at church – the road deeply covered with snow, and the trees heavily laden – sleety small snow falling all the way as we went and returned and indeed all the day – wrote the above of today till 5 40 wrote copy of note to Miss Berry  Dinner at 6 ¼ - coffee – 20 minutes with my father and Marian till 7 ¾ - some while talking to A- then wrote the following to ‘Messrs. Parker and Adam solicitors H-x’ ‘Shibden Hall. Monday 11 January 1835 Sir - I shall be much obliged to you to put up a few handbills advertising Northgate house to be let with ot without land, or with any part of it, the whole being 5DW.2qrs.21p. exclusive of curlilage [curtilage] in front of the house, court, and what the buildings stand on, amounting to 0DW.2qrs.13p which, with their buildings are valued at £85 per annum but I will take £80 - I mean to cut down the trees - Respecting the Stump Cross Inn, I wish it to be understood, that it is let as it is, with the exception of if necessary being put into good tenantable repair - For all new erections that may be wanted, I shall expect a percentage - you will be s good as give such explanation of the from year to year lease, as you think proper - I shall reserve a power over coal-looses, and to get coal and other minerals, paying all reasonable damages, and rent of surface, after the rate of £3 per DW of land above the house, and £4 per DW of land below the house - the answer to be given on the day-week after the letting - I think you had best let the tenants know they are to pay to you the rents now due - I received the care and opinion yesterday evening by Mr. Washington - it seems, there is not much to be done - I am sir, etc etc A. Lister’ - 25 minutes with my aunt till 10 5 at which hour F38 ½° - Snowy day - (vid. line 8 of today) - till 10 ½ copied the above note and left it for George to take in the morning

[ideasgn]

Smriti Curtilage by T.K. Chu Design

[parental-advice-fierce-deity]

Hey Ikana, how's it hangin? Any temples you have visited recently that you've enjoyed?

I haven't actually been to any temples since my coming of age ceremony... Except for the castle curtilage one, but that one doesn't count since I live there.

Oh! I did get to go down to the Great Bay as part of a delegation to the Zora. It was nice. I even learned some new songs from the Zora!