#appraisal-in-dallas

[robertsbig60]

Stop Foreclosure in Dallas, What's Real

Stop Foreclosure in Dallas

Stop Foreclosure There’s a ton of information on how to “stop foreclosure in Dallas,” and lots of services that will charge you for access to their data on how to do so. In fact, we have our own foreclosure property listings in DFW right here. But… how do you tell the difference between credible information and useless marketing gimmicks with local foreclosure properties? Stop Foreclosure in…

[p-oconnor]

Is Your Dallas Central Appraisal District Assessment Accurate?

If your Dallas Central Appraisal District assessment doesn’t reflect your property’s true value, a protest could help. Homeowners have succeeded in reducing their tax burden through reassessment appeals. You may find more information by clicking here Dallas central Appraisal district

[metroplexappraisers]

Why Choose a Professional Dallas Real Estate Appraiser – The Expertise of Metroplex Appraisers

When it comes to buying, selling, refinancing, or investing in property in Dallas, getting an accurate appraisal is essential. A precise property valuation not only gives buyers confidence but also helps sellers set competitive prices, benefiting all parties involved. For anyone needing expert real estate appraisal services, Metroplex Appraisers stands as a reliable choice in the Dallas area. With a deep understanding of the local market, compliance with industry standards, and a client-centered approach, Metroplex Appraisers provides trusted appraisal solutions tailored to every need.

What Does a Dallas Real Estate Appraiser Do?

A real estate appraiser plays a crucial role in determining the fair market value of a property. The appraiser conducts an in-depth analysis of the property, including its size, location, age, condition, and unique features. Additionally, appraisers evaluate recent market data, neighborhood trends, and comparable property sales to arrive at an unbiased estimate.

A professional appraisal can be required for various reasons, including:

Buying or Selling a Property: An accurate appraisal provides a baseline for negotiations, ensuring buyers don’t overpay and sellers receive a fair value.

Refinancing a Mortgage: Lenders need to know the current market value of a property to determine refinancing terms, and appraisals help assess the property’s equity accurately.

Estate Planning or Divorce Settlements: Accurate valuations can be necessary for dividing assets or planning an estate fairly.

Tax Assessments: Appraisals can assist property owners in appealing property taxes if they believe their home is overvalued.

Why Choose a Professional Appraiser in Dallas?

Real estate markets vary widely from city to city, and Dallas is no exception. A local real estate appraiser who understands the unique dynamics of Dallas neighborhoods provides insights that general appraisers may miss. The city’s diverse landscape, ranging from bustling urban centers to quiet suburban communities, demands expertise in assessing property values specific to each area.

Metroplex Appraisers is a Dallas-based team with extensive experience in understanding the intricacies of the Dallas real estate market. Their familiarity with local trends, combined with a commitment to accuracy and professionalism, ensures that their appraisals meet the highest standards.

Key Services Offered by Metroplex Appraisers

Metroplex Appraisers provides a wide array of services that cater to various needs, making them an ideal choice for real estate appraisals in Dallas. Here’s a look at the services they offer:

1. Residential Property Appraisals

Metroplex Appraisers specializes in residential appraisals, delivering accurate valuations for single-family homes, condos, townhouses, and multi-family properties. They assess every detail that impacts a property’s value, from square footage and floor plans to neighborhood amenities and future market trends. Their residential appraisals are useful for both homeowners looking to sell and potential buyers hoping to make informed decisions.

2. Commercial Property Appraisals

Commercial real estate requires a unique approach to appraisal, taking into account factors like income potential, building condition, location, and current market demand. Metroplex Appraisers offers detailed commercial appraisals for a wide range of properties, including office buildings, retail spaces, and industrial complexes. Their expertise ensures that businesses, investors, and lenders receive accurate valuations essential for sound financial decisions.

3. Investment Property Valuations

Dallas has a thriving investment property market, and Metroplex Appraisers provides valuations tailored for investors. Their approach considers rental income potential, market demand, and the cost of improvements, delivering valuations that help investors maximize returns and minimize risk.

4. Tax Assessment Appeals

High property taxes can significantly impact the finances of property owners. Metroplex Appraisers helps clients navigate tax assessment appeals by providing independent appraisals to challenge inflated property values. With accurate, professional valuations, property owners have the necessary evidence to appeal tax assessments confidently.

5. Estate Planning and Divorce Settlements

Dividing assets in estate planning or divorce cases requires impartial and accurate property valuations. Metroplex Appraisers’ team offers appraisals for legal purposes, ensuring transparency and fairness during complex proceedings. They provide detailed reports that meet legal standards, helping clients move forward with clear and defensible valuations.

The Benefits of Working with Metroplex Appraisers in Dallas

Metroplex Appraisers is known for their professional approach, attention to detail, and commitment to customer satisfaction. Here are some benefits clients enjoy when working with their expert team:

In-Depth Knowledge of the Dallas Market: With years of experience in the Dallas real estate market, Metroplex Appraisers understands the nuances that influence property values in specific neighborhoods and communities. Their local insights ensure accurate valuations that reflect the true value of a property.

Qualified and Certified Professionals: The team at Metroplex Appraisers consists of certified professionals who adhere to the industry’s best practices and ethical standards. Their commitment to ongoing education means they are up-to-date on the latest appraisal techniques and market changes.

Fast and Reliable Service: Metroplex Appraisers understands the importance of timely appraisals, particularly in real estate transactions with tight deadlines. They offer fast turnaround times while maintaining the accuracy and quality of their reports, providing clients with quick, reliable service.

Transparent and Detailed Reports: Transparency is a top priority at Metroplex Appraisers. Their reports are detailed and easy to understand, offering clients a comprehensive view of the factors that influence their property’s value. This level of transparency is valuable for clients who need to review or present appraisals for legal or financial purposes.

Client-Centered Approach: Metroplex Appraisers prides itself on delivering outstanding customer service. Their appraisers take the time to explain each step of the process and are available to answer questions, ensuring clients feel informed and confident in their appraisal results.

Choosing the Right Real Estate Appraiser for Your Needs

When it comes to choosing a real estate appraiser in Dallas, it’s important to look for a team that combines expertise with a client-focused approach. Whether you’re buying your first home, refinancing an investment property, or settling an estate, Metroplex Appraisers has the experience and knowledge to guide you with professionalism and care.

An accurate appraisal is crucial for making informed real estate decisions, and partnering with the right appraiser provides peace of mind throughout the process. Metroplex Appraisers’ blend of local expertise, rigorous standards, and personalized service makes them a valuable resource for anyone needing an appraisal in the Dallas area.

Get Started with Metroplex Appraisers Today

If you’re seeking a reliable, qualified real estate appraiser in Dallas, Metroplex Appraisers is here to help. Their comprehensive services, attention to detail, and dedication to client satisfaction ensure that every appraisal meets the highest standards. Whether for residential, commercial, or investment property, their team provides valuations that empower clients to make confident, informed decisions.

Make your next real estate decision with clarity and confidence by choosing Metroplex Appraisers. From start to finish, their expertise and commitment to excellence offer Dallas clients the support and insights they need to succeed in the real estate market.

[oconnor2023]

Dallas County Appeals after ARB Hearing

Dallas County has two types of property tax appeals. Administrative appeals and Post Administrative appeals – include the informal and appraisal review board. Read more @ https://dallascountypropertytaxtrends.com/appeals/

[tetzoro]

☽◯☾ - SMOKIN' ACES

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : The ASL brothers know how to throw a good party and tonight was no different.

꒰ content ꒱ : MDNI. portgas d. ace x f!reader ; dubcon as they are high, descriptive weed use, shotgunning, surprise voyeur alert (someone might be listening...), unprotected sex, dry humping, use of pet names (baby, good girl), impact play if you squint — WC : 3.4k

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ Full Moon ! ꒱ — Kinktober Masterlist

The basement was a cozy little spot that only the members of the house and certain special guests could be privy to. During the notorious parties, it was a safe haven, a place of refuge- Somewhere to get some air, get away from the noise, and regroup with the people who meant most to you.

It was full of little touches from over the years. A series of disjointed chairs and faded couches all in a circle with a busted coffee table in the center that either had a bong or hookah on it, ready for community use. 

Always playing chill music, full of wondrous paintings and vibrant murals that various friends have done — it was the clubhouse of all clubhouses and all run by the ASL boys themselves; Ace, Sabo, and Luffy.

The first member, the self-proclaimed founding member, is currently sitting next to you with a triumphant smile on his face, grinding up some weed. After the exhausting day at the beach, everyone has decided to go out to the bar instead of staying in for the night.

A part of you had wanted to go with them and maybe do a couple of shots and make out with someone for a little while. A night where your head was as fizzy as a champagne bottle and maybe you could get your mind off of a certain someone.

But then Ace had given you the look.

That look with those big brown puppy eyes of his that never failed to have you cater to his every whim — annoyingly so. 

So you find yourself here, in the still smoke-filled air basement that was full of character from a group of the rowdy young adults you’ve come to know so well next to the man you’ve been pining over since the day you met him.

“I can't believe you dressed up like the dude from Magic Mike.” You flick his cowboy hat up, knocking it back and giving it a slightly disheveled look.

“Not just any dude, I'm dressed as Dallas.” Ace shakes his head, focused on rolling another joint in his favorite strawberry-printed rolling paper for the two of you to share. The one you had earlier burned out with the group and Ace had promised you another if you agreed to stay behind with him

“You just wanted an excuse to be shirtless.” Not that you were really complaining.

“First of all, I'm not shirtless.” Ace patted the unbuttoned vest that loosely hung over his taut frame. “Second of all, I did it for the hat that you so rudely hurt.”

“My apologies then.” The sarcasm drips from your tone and Ace casts you a sidelong glance, sticking his tongue out at you before using it to lick the joint.

“At least I was creative.” He says, his dark eyes trailing along your body. Even though he’s clearly appraising the outfit and not you, a chill runs down your spine. “Weren’t you a cat last year too?”

“Shut up, you know that Luffy ruined the angel wings I was going to wear.” Ace hands you the joint in surrender, motioning for you to go first as he fishes the lighter out from between the couch cushions. 

You put it in your mouth, lips wrapping around the filter as the sparks fly. It illuminates the small space in front of you and casts a soft glow over Ace's freckled face. 

Suddenly, he felt a little too close. You take in the way he carefully lights it for you, his tongue peeking out as he focuses on the task at hand. As soon as the flame catches the paper, his eyes flicker up to yours.

You inhale, begrudgingly taking in some of the smoke of the wrap before it cherries at the end, an influx of weed hitting your lungs harsher than you intended.

“Easy now.” Ace tries to stifle his laugh as you cough a little, your head still reeling from the close proximity. He takes the joint from your fingers, gently brushing his against yours before taking a hit himself.

Ever the show-off, the smoke barely leaves his lips before he begins to inhale it through his nose. He smirks at you as he does it, effortlessly inhaling the thick flume of smoke.

“You’re so lame for gatekeeping that trick by the way.” You huff at the man across from you, taking the joint back from him to continue your sesh. 

“I gotta have something to impress you, right?” Ace leans back on the couch a little more, eyes growing hazy and red as he watches you. His tattooed arm dangles off the back of the couch while you try not to take what he says to heart. But he looks back at you, head tilting a little so he peeks at you from under his hat. “But I suppose I can teach you something else.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?” Taking another hit, you let the smoke rush through your lungs and let it saturate every bit while it screams in protest the longer you hold onto it. Ace shifts ahead, leaning in so he’s closer to you and spreading his legs so his thigh brushes against yours. 

“You really wanna know?” His warm breath caresses your ear as he speaks, his nose barely nudging the lobe. The sudden seductive shift in his voice throws you off your axis and plummets you into his gravitational pull.

“Yes.” The approval slips out of your mouth with the rest of the smoke. 

Ace moves his face so it's in front of yours, his eyes scanning your features as he takes a hit. You’re not even sure when he grabbed the joint but you don’t question it. not when his fingers cup your jaw so sweetly.

“What’re you—“ The question dies out as he shakes his head. Everything feels tingly but the way he’s cusping your face makes it ten times worse, setting your skin on fire as your face heats up.

Carefully, he tilts your head toward him before he leans in. Your breath hitches as his lips brush against yours, his fingers pulling on your jaw so your mouth opens a little more.

With a direct softness you’ve never gotten from him, he blows the smoke out from his mouth and into yours. The weed coats your taste buds before his tongue slips into your mouth to steal it all away. His eagerness rivals the hit in a silent contest of who can take your breath away more.

Ace's hand doesn’t move from your face and he uses it to his advantage to kiss you further. If you thought your mind was fuzzy before, it was absolute static now as your twirls swirl together.

He grins against your lips, humming approvingly as you begin to kiss him back. But it was over far too soon and it takes everything in you not to chase his fleeting lips.

“So?” He smirks and pulls away from you, taking another hit as you try to catch your breath.

“What the hell was that?” Your thigh was still pressing against his but you couldn’t find it in you to move. Part of you longed to push further, to lean into him and melt into his searing touch. But your mind was still trying to play catch up from what just happened.

“Shotgunning.” He blows the smoke out straight into the air and your heart pangs with a strange jealousy. “Did you like it?”

“Yes.” You bite your lip. Maybe a little too much. You pause, tasting the words on your tongue before you utter them. “I wanna try it again.”

Ace sucks in his breath, the smoke plummeting to his lungs as he takes in your wish. Coughing slightly, he sits up straighter on the couch and tries to gather himself.

“Yeah?” The gravely rasp in his voice swirls with the underlying desire and draws you in further. 

There’s no going back now.

“Yeah,” You nod slowly. Neither of you bat an eye as you slide into his lap, accidentally rolling your hips against his lap as you do. Ace lets out a choked groan of your name, shifting underneath you. “Ready?”

Galaxies bloom in his eyes as they light up, eagerly tilting his head up in anticipation. The joint sits on your lips before you take the hit, watching him under you as he looks up at you from beneath his dark lashes. Desire pools in your abdomen and before you can think about what you want, your lips meet once again.

It’s a blur between tongues as the smoke fizzles out. You’re not even sure if you did it right, but then again, it wasn’t really your main objective.

The joint disappears from your fingers and you can feel Ace shift to ash it out on the side table. Unburdened, his arms wrap around you and his hands splay across your back, pulling you closer to him and deepening the kiss.

Your lungs beg for reprieve but the taste of Ace’s sweet tongue is too addicting to let up. But he shows mercy and pulls away, suffering from the same affliction. 

Everything felt fuzzy around the edges, your brain fully saturated in something syrupy sweet that had your hips involuntarily moving again as soon as your foreheads pressed together.

The faint aroma of sea salt still wove itself in the tangled curls of Ace’s hair, filling your senses despite all the smoke that currently clung to the thick air. 

“Ace.” You gasp softly, the faint outline of his hardening cock coming to life right between your thighs. 

“Yeah? You feel that?” To further his point, he pushes his hips up against your overheating core. “Feel what you do to me?”

“Yes.” With every slow grind of your hips, you can feel him growing harder beneath you. The friction was rolling over your body like a wave hitting the shore, but it was fleeting. “I want more.”

“Can you handle more?” The smirk that dangles off his face has you wanting to roll your eyes but you relent. The craving for him was too much, threatening to boil over and fully consume you.

“I can.” You nod, lips hovering over his. “I want to try.”

Ace closes the distance, unable to curb his own carnal urges that run rampant in his body. The way your lips mesh together, tasting like weed and strawberry-flavored chapstick becomes something he knows he’ll get addicted to. 

Your fingers dance along his chest, teasing under the vest before landing on the buckle of his belt. All the while he reaches up your skirt, tugging on your panties and dragging them down your legs.

The rest is a blur of motion, but the messy way his lips move with yours is vivid. It’s almost jarring how much you can taste him, how much his grunts of approval seep into your skin and run through your veins

You pull back at an absolute loss for breath, panting against his mouth as his tongue pokes out to trace your parted lips. The bottom half of your clothes are gone and his are haphazardly halfway down his thigh. 

Ace's hand grips the base of his cock as you hover over it, pumping it and squeezing his tip as it leaks with pearly drops of precum. 

“You're gonna be a good girl and take it all for me?” His knuckles brush along your soaked slit, running along it back and forth, absolutely mesmerized as he waits for your answer.

“Yes, I'll be good.” The words are nothing more than a breath of air, your lungs squeezing in protest. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” His tip prods your entrance, both of you throbbing as the last thread of self-control burns like a stick of dynamite. The slow, sparkling crawl of anticipation before everything explodes, lighting each other aflame in a whirlwind of desire. “You turn into such a little slut when you’re high, don’t you?”

“Ace.” You whine, watching the slow spread of his signature boyish grin take up his face. Warm palms rest on your hips, fingers gripping into your skin as he soaks up the absolute need in your voice. 

“What?” He chuckles lowly, his voice still raspy from the smoke. “All I'm saying is that — ohh shit…“

The rest of his sentence melts into a groan as you slowly lower yourself onto his cock.

“That’s it.” He groaned, his palms sliding to rest on your thighs to help guide you. It takes everything in him not to push you all the way down, letting you take your time as you adjust during your descent.

Everything stands still as he finally bottoms out, filling you up and stretching you out in ways no one has ever done before. The pressure is insurmountable yet it brings you a wave of pleasure that has your body singing for more.

“Holy fuck, you feel like heaven.” Ace practically moans at the way your silky walls clamp around him. His fingers move once again to grip your hips in a bruising hold, stilling himself from spilling into you immediately.

“Of course, you talk a lot during sex.” You let out a scoffed chuckle, clutching onto his shoulders as you spread your legs a little more and letting him sink in even deeper. 

“Aw, complaining already?” He gives you a lazy grin, slowly grinding his hips up against you. The steady throb of his cock melts your brain more than the weed did, the residual high becoming overshadowed by the man under you. “Or let me guess, you just can’t take a compliment?”

“Shut up.” You huff, rocking your hips before raising yourself back up. His cock partially slides out of you and glistens with your essence, coating it completely. Ace's eyes zero in on it, drinking in the sight before you ease back down.

“Fuck.” Ace's head hangs off the back of the couch as he gazes at you through half-lidded eyes. The hat he was wearing falls behind him, completely forgotten. His palms glide along your sides, sliding them up and down before cupping your ass and trying to speed up your movements. “Please, you gotta move faster.”

“Do I?” The gravity of the situation sets in, albeit a little delayed — blame it on the weed. But he was completely at your mercy. The pleading look in his eyes speaks volumes despite the cocky words he so rapidly fires off. You lean down, lips brushing against his ear. “Let me guess, can’t handle it?”

Ace's attention snaps back to you, almost fully alert now. The fog from earlier clears from his head as the words he uttered earlier echo from your pretty little mouth. A new challenge fires off inside of him and he was never one to back down from a fight, no matter the position. With a wicked grin, he thrusts his hips heavenward.

“Oh, I can handle it alright.” He murmurs, rubbing the plushness of your ass before giving it a subtle smack. Your body jolts and your chests crash together, almost every part of you is touching him.

The ever-steady rhythm of your heart spins on its axis, thrown off by the rapid beating that sets in syncopation and you can’t find it in you to care. Not when everything you’ve ever wanted is finally clicking into place.

Your bodies move in a euphoric sync, the ebb and flow of the melody you two orchestrate fills the room in a symphony of bliss. You were drowning into Ace’s very essence and in return, he did the same.

“Shit, baby.” Ace groans at the almost lazy pace. Each delicious drag of his cock had your eyes rolling back to your head. Anytime he twitched inside of you was like another jolt of pleasure — knowing that he was getting just as much enjoyment out of this as you was driving you faster to your end. “I've wanted this for so long.”

“What?” You’re completely breathless now. The confession takes away the last shred of oxygen and rips it out of your lungs. The languid roll of your hips doesn't stop though; your mind, heart, and body all chasing what you want in different ways. “Really?”

“God, yeah.” Ace's fingers slid under your shirt as he grabbed your bra-covered chest. “We need to take this off.”

Impressively, his pace doesn’t falter as he rocks up into you while his hand glides to your back and unhooks your bra. It only takes a few seconds for your chest to become completely bare and his head to find its home in the valley of your breasts.

His tongue trails everywhere. Your body burns under it, relief only pooling in the spot between your thighs and wherever he decides to lick away the flames. It cools you off, the words he said earlier filtering back into your mind as the smoke clears.

“I've wanted this too.” You gasp, bouncing a little quicker to prove how much you’ve needed this — him. Ace groans, teeth grazing the swell of your breast before sucking your nipple into his mouth to muffle the noise. “You feel so good, Ace.”

The candy-sweet praise has his head popping back up from where his tongue was swirling around your pert bud and looks at you, eyes trailing over your blissed-out face and the hearts that swirled in your eyes. 

“Come here.” Ace roughly grabs you by your ass, leaning further back into the couch as you tumble on him. He couldn’t hold back anymore, fucking up into you without abandon.

“A-Ace!” You gasp, trying to squirm away a little but the hold he had you in was too tight.

“Take it for me, baby. You said you would.” He moans. Both of your impending highs are heightened by the weed you inhaled only minutes ago. Pleasure rips through your body, sending it into tremors as your thighs shake. “Let go f’me.”

Your high washes over you immediately, body locking up as Ace continues to pound into you and chase his own release.

And it’s beautiful when he reaches it.

He comes with a choked moan of your name, his body tensing up and his fingers digging into your skin. His cock pulses before he completely empties himself into your greedy cunt with sporadic, shallow thrusts.

Both of you slump against each other, melting into the couch as your mind floats down from the clouds and into his warm embrace.

You pull back a little to admire his freckled face and can’t help but unleash the giggle that bubbles from your chest. It was contagious, as joy often is when you’re around him, and he can’t help but mirror you.

The two of you giggling in each other's arms under the shoddy string lights in the basement that has grown to mean so much to you — even more so now. 

The distinct squeak of the floorboard by the basement door sounds off, snapping you both back into reality.

“I thought we were the only ones here.” You sit up, hastily reaching for your clothes and throwing them on. Ace lifts his hips and slides his back on before kissing you on the top of your head and getting up. “Ace–“

“Stay here.” He turns around the corner and out of sight as he starts to go up the stairs. After a few steps in, the door opens and you straighten up. “Oh, it’s you. You little fucking perv.”

The sound of Ace’s boisterous laughter sounds off as two pairs of legs start coming back down. Every nerve is set on fire, anxiety ripping into your chest at the thought of seeing the person who had been listening in on you and Ace fucking.

But the familiar sight of blonde hair snuffs all the worries away, the dastardly pair smiling at you with devious intent.

“I had to pick up so I couldn’t make it to the bar tonight,” Sabo said with a grin, holding up the bag of weed he must’ve scored. “Must be my lucky day.” 

“Must be.” Ace scoffs, making his way back to you. He plops back down into his spot next to you, immediately mouthing at your neck before his voice curls around your ear. You don ’t break eye contact with Sabo as he stalks closer, placing the bag on the table before taking off his gloves. “What do you say, baby? Wanna let him smoke us up and show him exactly what happened down here?”

tags: @bontensh0e @autumnstuffs

[bobcatmoran]

Just got back from seeing Les Mis for the…4th? Yeah, 4th time. Twice the last time the national tour rolled through the Midwest (once in Madison, once in Minneapolis), and once when it was in previews the last time it was on Broadway.

Quite different this time, since I was not up in the balcony, but instead waaaaaay up front, waaaaaay to the side. I could've thrown something onto the percussionist in the pit easily (though, of course, I would never, because that would be an incredibly jerk thing to do)

More under the cut to spare everyone's dashes.

First of all, Nick Cartell as Valjean was freaking amazing. What a voice. Like, he did definitely hold out the last two notes of "Bring Him Home" almost uncomfortably long, but it was a flex he could absolutely pull off. His Valjean was actually someone you could buy as a "dangerous man" pre-Bishop (though during the scene where he helped out with the harvest, one of the women gave him a very appraising up-and-down look and then ran over to her friends, where they were clearly checking him out). Probably one of the more violent stage Valjeans I've seen overall, though he also very clearly cared for Cosette (both in tiny and grown-up editions) and when he told Éponine to take care after she'd delivered Marius' letter, it was with a fatherly-type air.

Second of all, kudos for whoever came up with the, "In 1832, very few people had cameras or cell phones. Therefore, we ask that you put them away for this performance," announcement.

Haley Dortch was the first Black Fantine I've seen since watching Les Mis Dallas, and she was also really good. Just an absolutely heartwrenching "I Dreamed a Dream." Unfortunately, my below-stage seating angle meant that the foot of her bed perfectly blocked her face for most of "Come to Me," but vocally it was amazing. I did notice how her post-haircut wig(?) still had the hair along the temples pulled back, which might be because otherwise, that hair type with a shoulder-length bob would just be a chaotic poof, possibly getting in the actress' face.

Bamatabois was played by Ben Cherington, the understudy, for this performance, and I credit that with him being the least weirdly swishy Bamatabois I've ever seen live. This guy was a rich asshole, but his threat came from his willingness to use violence (he raised his cane threateningly multiple times) and the fact that he knew the police would be on his side. He wasn't, like, foppish, and that helped give his character a weight that he doesn't usually have in recent productions.

I noticed that overall, this production did less of what I've noticed with a lot of more recent performances, where you'll get people ACTING to the point where the rhythm of the songs is lost. This cast generally didn't do that, except for chunks of "Lovely Ladies" and "Master of the House," which incidentally are the two songs that have been drifting towards becoming "comedic" over the years. (I have Opinions about that trend)

Little Cosette (Olivia I. Lu) for this performance was an understudy, and unfortunately, it was kind of obvious that she was. Just. Not a great singer. Very cute, though. Did a great bit where she just ragdolled when Thenardier picked her up.

Little Éponine (Cora Jane Messer) got in some good bits during her 15 seconds of stage time, pulling faces at Cosette and then snapping to being a sweet, innocent darling while her mom sang about what a delightful girl she was…and then sticking her tongue out at Cosette again.

I was kind of surprised at how Mme Thénardier was the biggest ham in "Master of the House," but then I figured out during intermission that M Thénardier was played by an understudy, which might explain why he was relatively subdued. But only relatively. Still played the character completely for laughs, zero menace.

Honestly, I spent most of "Master of the House" tracking a couple of guys — who I'm pretty sure were played by Joly and Lesgles' actors (Les Amis were surprisingly multicultural, which helped a lot in telling them apart) — who came into the inn together and were doing a bit about, "Why did we come here, this place is sketchy," on the corner of the stage nearest to where I was sitting.

Hayden Tee was Javert for this performance — apparently a recent cast addition since his bio was a loose page in the program despite being listed as Javert for December 6–11…and also today, I guess. Vocally, I loved his performance. Unfortunately, his body language struck me as weirdly fruity for the character, and I think it might've been because he would very precisely walk putting one foot directly in front of the other, which does things to your hips while you walk that definitely read a certain way. He also did this amazing snappy little twirl with his police baton before tucking it under his arm. Like, he had the very stiff, stick-up-your-butt, razor-sharp precision that works for a certain Javert interpretation, but it was undermined by a lot of other body language elements.

I also, thanks to my seating position, could see the robot(?) (that's what some folks who were sitting next to me called it) that stealthily comes up behind Javert during his final scene on the bridge and hooks onto him for the "jump." If you were watching it, you could catch the moment it actually hooked onto him, because he had a little hiccup in his singing.

Devin Archer was Enjolras, and he had this intensity to his performance where you could absolutely buy that this guy was suffused with revolutionary fervor. It was almost enough to distract from the truly terrible blond wig he was wearing. At least, I'm hoping that's a wig, otherwise he has done a great injustice to his actual hair.

Grantaire was also an understudy for this performance, played by Daniel Gerard Bittner, who's usually Feuilly and is also the understudy for Enjolras, Bamatabois, and Grantaire, which is quite the range. I wouldn't have had any idea he was an understudy. The fact that Grantaire was the last to die on the barricade, after climbing up, weaponless, to the top of it was a big oof.

Feuilly, for the record, was played by Christopher Robin Sapp, a swing, and again, I'd have had no idea if I hadn't taken a photo of the standee in the lobby with tonight's cast and cross-referenced it with my program. He nailed that one shining moment that Feuilly gets, where he's like, "THE BLOOD OF THE MARTYRS WILL WATER THE MEADOWS OF FRANCE!"

I kind of loved how David Young, who played Prouvaire, and is Black, had a hairstyle that looked almost exactly like some contemporary illustrations I've seen of young Alexandre Dumas. Very vertical in its poofiness.

Harrison Fox, who played Gavroche for this performance, was the tiniest Gavroche I've ever seen. Even when he climbed up on a table to announce, "General Lamarque is dead," he was barely taller than the members of Les Amis. Nothing to write home about, acting-wise, but. so tiny.

Gregory Lee Rodriguez and Addie Morales as Marius and Cosette, respectively, were perfectly adorkable. There was some great body language in "A Heart Full of Love" where Cosette was the one taking initiative, which I really liked. Their body language while reading Valjean's final message at the start of the "Do You Hear the People Sing" reprise was also just so good. Cosette, absolutely heartbrokena and overwhelmed, and Marius supporting her, which was a perfect mirror of how Cosette had supported a grieving Marius during "Every Day." Also, yay for Black!Marius and Brunette!Cosette!

Grownup!Éponine was played by Christine Heesun Hwang, who's actually from the local area. She was very solid, definitely played up the musical character's very sassy, independent nature, and had a few bits with Montparnasse threatening her and her being like, "a knife? Is that the best you got?"

I definitely noticed, especially during the "Waltz of Treachery" that the Thenardiers seemed like they were coming from a completely different play than Valjean and Little Cosette. The "comedy" drift of those characters has been that bad, which I feel does a disservice to the story. For Cosette's situation to really hit home, it needs to feel like she's in an actually terrible situation, not a slapstick comedy.

Other people have noted this recent lyrics change, but the "Beggars at the Feast" lyric switch from "This one's a queer/but what can you do" to "This one's a queer/I might try it too" both undermines Thenardier being an asshole (the line directly before it, "This one's a Jew" has stayed intact, and works better in terms of "oh hey, this guy's just a prejudiced jerk") and, especially with the choreography I saw, where Thenardier pulls the "queer" from his (female) dance partner to twirl and dip him, actually makes it look like being "queer" is something Thenardier is on the side of. And he's a TERRIBLE character. No one is supposed to want to be like Thenardier, but here they are, saying Queers are something he enjoys and supports. Ick ick ick. Last time I saw the musical, they didn't have this lyrics change, and I don't like it.

Overall, a really solid performance. I'm sure there's some folks out there who disagree with "race-blind" casting going, "How did a Black woman give birth to an Asian kid who grew up into a white lady?" And honestly, I'd love to see a cast someday with a POC Cosette and a white Éponine, since it's always the other way around.

But on average, this was probably one of the strongest casts I've seen, and they absolutely deserved that standing ovation that they got.

[authorandartist13]

Respite--An Outsiders fic

“You sleep at your folks’ last night?” Discomfort creeps up his esophagus. “Nah.” Johnny wakes, and sleeps, and wakes again. There's a cycle to his couch-crashing, but he always feels a lap behind.

Hey hi hello! Welcome to my first (published) Outsiders fic. CW: Brief verbal/physical abuse of a minor, mentions of alcoholism. Not extensively detailed or graphic, but keep yourselves safe. We're gonna hit it with some homey comfort and a touch of angst for flair, folks. Here we go!

The Curtis place is separate from the outside world.

Here, it’s quiet. Johnny usually can’t stand the stale, tense silences lining the walls of his house, but this quiet just–isn’t that. It’s full, somehow, with the rustling of turning newspaper pages and the soft drone of the refrigerator in the background. And the inevitable clattering pots and pans from Soda’s attempts at cooking, of course. 

The screen door slams, and a haze of cigarette smoke announces Dallas’ presence as he ambles into the room. “Hey, Johnnycakes.” He kicks up his feet in the recliner. “You stayin’ the night?”

“Probably.”

“Sweet deal.” Dally frowns at the television. “What’re you watching?”

Johnny shrugs. “Dunno. Was on when I got here. Haven’t really been paying attention.”

“It’s Antiques Roadshow,” Soda calls from the kitchen. “Pony’s convinced he’s got a winning baseball card that’s gonna put him through college.”

“It could!” Pony says, indignant over the commentary of an appraiser examining a dusty trombone case, sans trombone. “Sometimes they show sports stuff, and most of the time it’s worth at least a couple hundred bucks.” Disgruntled, he adds, “Which I keep tellin’ them, but all they wanna watch is football.”

Darry pokes his head out from the kitchen entryway. There’s sawdust mixed in with the flour in his hair. “And I’m telling you the only thing that’s gonna put you through college are your grades, little buddy. You finish your homework yet?”

“Pretty much.”

Darry raises an eyebrow. 

Pony throws his hands in the air. “Alright, alright, I’ll go do the rest of it. Hey, Johnny, holler if they start looking over trading cards, yeah?”

“Sure.”

As soon as Pony’s out of sight, Dallas snatches the remote up and changes the channel. An old stick-’em-up western rattles through the crackling screen. Johnny thumbs through a pack of cards, half-watching two gunslingers trading leveled stares across the wavering heat. Dallas flicks a napkin scrap at him. 

“Deal me in, kid. Or are you playing fifty-two card pick-up?”

“Might be once we’re finished,” Johnny says, dividing the cards between them. “And you chuck ‘em all over the place.”

Dallas raises a wry eyebrow. “Don’t bet your milk money on that one.”

When Johnny whips him in poker, the house erupts with so much noise it drags Ponyboy out of his essay-induced stupor. 

*****

Johnny wakes to a hand on his shoulder. Blearily, he sits up, maybe a little faster than necessary. Soda’s standing over him, his hand now gone. Johnny’s skin feels suddenly cold without it. 

“Hey,” Soda whispers. “You need to be home by now?”

Johnny glances at the clock on the wall, remembers it got broke last week from one of Soda and Steve’s wrestling matches, and digs out his watch. Six-thirty. Shit. 

He pulls himself up with a smothered sigh and makes quick work of collecting his things. “I better,” he says, tying his blackened shoe laces. “Thanks, Soda. Tell Darry I said it, too.”

Soda shoots him a thumbs-up. Before Johnny can slip out the door, he says, “You sure you gotta go? We can keep you here, if you’d rather. You know what Two’ll do if your ma shows up.”

“Yeah,” Johnny says, but he knows his face says otherwise. “I just…nobody else will clean, so.”

“Yeah.” Soda sighs, smiles, and slugs Johnny in the shoulder. “But it’s no use running to a bad appointment, huh? Take the scenic route.”

“Sure, I’ll do a lap around your house. Should be scenic enough.”

Soda laughs. “Get outta here, Cade.”

He doesn’t have to tell Johnny twice. He’s already late. He ignores Soda’s advice and takes a shortcut through the lot back to his house, partly because he’s gotta slip inside before his folks notice and partly because dawdling in the streets means getting jumped (not that many socs are cruising for bait at this hour). The early morning dew seeps through his sneakers as he braces to climb through his bedroom window. He lands as soft as he can manage and works his way through the house, cleaning as he goes. There’s no room in the trash for the drained beer bottles littering the couch, so he bags it up and drags it outside. 

When he steps back inside, his mother’s waiting for him. 

Her eyes are roaming, coagulus, like they’re made of gelatin in their sockets. Not sober, then, but coming off it enough to recognize him. He shifts in his soggy sneakers, hand itching for his backpack, a jacket, anything. Instead, he braces. 

“You been back at that Curtis place?” Her voice is ragged, like a rusty blade against a telephone wire. Last night was a fighting night. A sobbing one, too, by the rings around her eyes. 

“No’m.”

“Where you been, then?”

“The lot.”

“Bullshit.” She spits. “You’re playing house with those kiss-asses.” He doesn’t–won’t–respond, and her jaw clenches. “Isn’t that right? You’d rather rob them blind than be grateful for what you’ve got here.”

“No’m.”

“Don’t you contradict me.” She reaches for him and he steps back. It’s a mistake; her knuckles flash against his cheek in a slap. “You think you’re so damn smart. Them Curtis boys have nothing to their name for a rag like you. They’ll be in the lock-up by winter.”

She said the same thing last year, and the year before that. Johnny doesn’t bother taking note.

His silence has gone on too long. He has to remember to match her temper, but he can’t. His bones ache. 

Her hand is like iron around his bicep. She leans in close, and he can smell the liquor and stale coffee on her breath. “You think they’ll keep taking you back? Go on, then. Their parents thought they were so high and mighty, it’s only natural for the sons to inherit it, too.”

“I can clean the kitchen.”

She throws him down by his hair. “God help me for such an ungrateful son.” A kick lands home in his ribs. He scrambles to get up, to get to the sink. The water’s scalding on his cracked skin. “I’ll give you something to whine about.”

But she must be too bleary to follow through, because her footsteps thud up the stairs, cursing him all the way. Johnny scrubs until his hands go numb, and then he takes out the trash again.

*****

The next morning hails a vicious wind. 

“Incoming,” a voice calls, before an arm is slung around his shoulders. 

“Hey, Two.”

“Hey yourself, punk. You beat up any socs today?”

“Not yet.”

“Eh, you’ll get there.” Two-bit ruffles his hair and they make their way down the sidewalk. When they stop to let a herd of cars pass by, Two-Bit’s gaze finds him more closely. 

“You sleep at your folks’ last night?”

Discomfort creeps up his esophagus. “Nah.”

“You weren’t at Soda’s.” No, he wasn’t. Johnny tries not to leech too many nights in a row. There may not be a schedule to his couch-crashing, but there are limits. He tries to make up for it. If he’s got an extra five bucks, he’ll slip it in the tin bank in the back of Darry’s closet. Cash is hard to come by with no job and a constant cycle of beer runs for his father, so other nights he dries the dishes. 

“The lot,” he says, eyes darting away to avoid Two-Bit’s frown. He’s not doing this right now. 

“Yeah,” Two-Bit says slowly. His hand comes up to feel Johnny’s forehead and Johnny bats it away. He doesn’t like when Two-Bit gets serious. It’s murky, unnatural. “You know my ma don’t mind making up an extra bed.”

“Bet she wouldn’t mind you making your bed, either,” Johnny says, and a flash of playfulness returns to Two-Bits eyes.

“Man,” he says, as the cars clear and they cross the street. Two-Bit pauses on the other side to flip off a particularly rambunctious Mustang. “She’d think I’d undergone a traumatic event. Got early Alzheimer's or something.”

Johnny lets himself scoff, and laugh, and doesn’t question how better to hide the rings around his eyes. It’s only gonna get colder, he thinks darkly, so he might as well get them tattooed on now. 

*****

Buck’s is the opposite of quiet. The minute the door opens he’s flooded with wobbly light and warbling music loud enough to make him shout at the stranger silhouetted before him. 

“What?” The stranger is shouting, too, but Johnny guesses it has more to do with the fog in his eyes than Hank Williams’ dulcet tones. 

“Dallas!”

“Oh, fuck him,” the stranger drawls, and slams the door in his face. Johnny sighs. 

He should go. He should probably, definitely go.

The wind whips a collection of ripping trash bags into the street like clattering tumbleweeds. From a cloudy window, he can see a silent game of pool. Someone picks up the eight-ball and chucks it into a beer pong table, sending booze sloshing. The apparent champion of beer pong clobbers him. 

Johnny’s feet stay rooted to the spot, mesmerized, so he moves the only other set of limbs he’s got left and pounds on the door. One, two beats. Three. 

The door catapults open. “--ucking girl scouts, we’re not buying shit,” Buck snarls, but at least it’s Buck. Better chance of being recognized, anyways. He blinks at Johnny. “Whaddaya want?”

“Is Dally here?”

“No. Go away.”

“Wait–” Johnny sticks his foot in the door, ouch, and fails to shut his trap. “Can I just, uh.”

“Spit it out, kid.”

“Um. I’m supposed to meet him, to–pay him back, for–can I just wait upstairs?”

Buck rolls his eyes. “Don’t go spelunking up there, y’hear?” The door is graciously removed from Johnny’s foot and he follows Buck inside. Standing surrounded by the ruckus is dizzying, and he presses through the bodies towards the stairs before he disorients himself. He prays no one is shacking up in Dally’s room and knocks for good measure, but miraculously, it’s empty. He shuts the door behind him and leans against it. 

He’s almost asleep when the door knocks into his back. 

“What the–Johnny?”

He scrambles to his feet, rubbing his eyes at the figure above him. “Hey, Dally.”

“The hell you sitting watch at the door for?” Dallas asks, collapsing onto the bed with a cigarette balanced between his lips mid-light. 

“Fell asleep,” Johnny shrugs. 

Dallas grunts. “Buck said you were here to pay up.” He looks at Johnny over his lighter. “We both know you don’t owe me shit, so what gives?”

“Lot’s cold. Didn’t want to bug anyone.”

“So you’re botherin’ me, huh?” Johnny’s face must morph into something aggrieved, because Dallas snorts and swipes a hand through his hair. “You know I don’t mind, kid, wipe that look off your face. I’m crashing,” he adds, puffing down the cigarette and crushing it out beneath his boot, “Extra jacket’s in the drawer.”

“What?”

“For a blanket, man,” Dallas says, like Johnny’s a little too slow on the catch-up. “You want the floor or the bed?”

Johnny pulls open half-filled drawyers until he finds Dallas’ leather jacket, the sheepskin matted but soft beneath his fingers. “Floor’s fine.”

Dallas rolls his eyes. “No it ain’t. C’mere, I don’t bite.”

Johnny settles on one side of the twin mattress, back to Dally and the coat beneath his head. This isn’t the first time they’ve done this, but small as he is, Johnny’s taller now than he used to be. They make it work, spines brushing, Johnny swept into a dreamless haze by the sound of Dally’s slow exhales and the dilapidated country swing reverberating below. 

*****

“Man, I’ll beat his fucking head in,” Steve says, lip curling as he prods at the lump forming on Johnny’s forehead. “He do this last night?”

“This morning,” Johnny says, and reigns in a wince. Steve’s not exactly known for his gentle bedside manner, but the DX has a stocked first aid kit, which is all he needs. He’s sitting on the counter and feeling stupidly small while Steve–dare he say–fusses around him. 

“I swear on his fresh-dug grave, Johnny. He’s gonna kill you one day.”

“Don’t I know it,” Johnny mutters, misery creeping in. He smashes it down. “It ain’t so bad, really. Just slap some ice on it or something.”

Steve clicks his teeth. “Yeah, all right. Soda?”

“No, I’ll–” But he should’ve known Steve would blab to Soda the second he got a chance. Johnny figured Soda wasn’t working today seeing as he’d yet to mother-hen circles around him, but he must be putzing in the back. 

“Wait here.” Steve wanders into the back garage, hollering. “Sodapop! The kid’s here.”

“Ponyboy?” Soda comes back into view with Steve, greased towel over one shoulder. His eyes land on Johnny. “Johnnycakes! You–well, shit.” He turns to Steve. “Can you grab some ice?”

“That was supposed to be your job,” Steve retorts, but he snatches Soda’s towel and cracks open the freezer. 

“Soc or your old man?” Soda asks, clearing the space between them in two long strides and leaning in close to Johnny’s face. His brow pinches as he resumes Steve’s prodding with much gentler hands. 

“Him,” Johnny says. It’s getting old, honestly, admitting he can’t hold his own against a sorry bastard unfit to walk most nights. Soda hums. 

“Did he get you anywhere else?”

“Nah.”

Soda raises an eyebrow as Steve returns, ice wrapped in the work towel. Johnny presses it to his face. “It’s fine.”

Soda looks unconvinced but relents. “You’re coming over for dinner tonight?” It’s phrased like a question, but Johnny knows there’s no arguing. He doesn’t want to refuse anyways, not tonight, but if he did there’d be guilty hell to pay.

“Only if you’re not cooking,” he hops off the counter and lets the smile play up his lips at Soda’s mock offense. 

“Well, excuse me for enjoying the subtle art of presentation,” he says. “You’re in luck, though. Darry’s making chicken gravy.”

Johnny can practically feel his stomach growling. “Catch you then, man,” he says, and wishes the whir of A/C could follow him out the door. 

*****

The rumble of a pickup warns its slowing advancement on him. Johnny shirks to the curb as it idles to a crawl, hackles raised. His blade is heavy and warm in his pocket. He can’t read the plates in the foggy light of fallen dusk. 

“Need a ride?” The driver calls, and he just about shakes his teeth, he’s so riled. Then the driver leans out the rolled-down window and he can make out a familiar jawline, a permanent cowlick. “Johnny? You headed to ours?”

Darry. Johnny’s shoulders sink with relief, and he lets his hands fall slack in his pockets. 

“Yeah,” he calls, and climbs in the cab. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Darry glances at him sideways as he signals himself back into the right lane. Johnny’s pulse matches the brief patter of the blinker. “You shouldn’t walk by yourself this time of night.” The way he says it–not bitten out or tensed, like he does with Ponyboy, but softer, almost apologetic–proves they both know Johnny’s well aware of what trouble he could bring. Darry worries about Pony’s casual shirking of danger, but Johnny. 

Johnny doesn’t need a lecture. 

It sparks a strange warmth within him, the knowledge that Darry cares. He doesn’t know how to hold it in his hands next to his blade and bottle caps. 

“I’m alright,” he says, watching trees flit by. Wondering whether a soc would’ve been hiding behind any one of them, had he kept going. A small, rational quadrant of his brain knows there likely wouldn’t have been, but safety breeds his freedom to speculate. He’d rather waste time hypothesizing than prove his theories, anyways. 

Darry hums and turns on the radio. Old jukebox rock ambles through the station. 

There lives another part of him. A deeper and steady calm that thrums through his veins any time danger is confirmed. The part that hooks his fingers around his blade and trusts in it. That flips up his jacket collar and sneers, kicks the scared puppy in him aside for something rougher to unearth itself across his features. The part that knows, unequivocally, that he will never be made a slick-mouthed soc’s ragdoll again. He doesn’t think about how he’d stop it, only that when he’s backed into a corner, a primal instinct quivers down his spine, itching for release.

Darry’s right to be more worried about Ponyboy than him.

“How was school?” Darry asks. The Curtis folks used to ask him the same thing. Darry’s filling their shoes as best he can–better than anyone else Johnny knows–but it still feels uncanny hearing the same phrases coming out of his mouth. 

“Not bad. Had to dissect a crayfish in biology.”

“Oh yeah?” Darry smiles. “I remember doing that. We had to do deer hearts too, during hunting season. Dad and some other families brought them in.”

“Did you cut ‘em open?”

“I stuck my fingers through the arteries and everything. The smell hung around the department for days.”

Johnny scrunches his nose. “Gross.”

“Yeah. Nice step up from worms, though.”

They pull into the driveway. Johnny makes to get out, but Darry doesn’t move, only unbuckles and lets the keys slip out of the ignition. He turns to face Johnny. “I opened the tin bank today.”

Dread makes room in his stomach. Not enough, it’s not enough. They cannot afford groceries, not with a revolving door of strays. 

“Soda and Ponyboy said they haven’t put anything in.”

He’s going to get a job. He’ll get a job doing–something. Someone will hire a good-for-nothing greaser, and if they don’t, he’ll have Dallas teach him how to hustle pool. 

Darry’s gaze is piercing. “Have you been adding to it?”

He swallows. “Yeah. I eat a lot, man.”

Darry huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Have you met Soda? Two-Bit? No offense, but you eat like a bird compared to them. You–” he stops, sighs a little. “You don’t owe us anything, kiddo.”

That’s a load of bullshit if Johnny’s ever heard some, but arguing with Darry is firmly against his self-preservation complex. Besides, it’s easier to quietly disagree than to register the option that maybe the Curtis’ really are just that stupid good.

“Johnny?”

Or, worse, that they’re right.

“Thanks, man.” He lets Darry share a smile with him and they pop the doors. 

“No more sneaking us your lunch money,” Darry says as he locks the truck. “You want to help out, do what I tell Ponyboy. Finish school, get a scholarship. Go make a future.”

Johnny watches as he walks up the sidewalk and to the front door. He doesn’t think about his future past the current month. Darry gave his away, and here he is saying all this…stuff, like there’s a changed life somewhere in Johnny’s deck of cards. Maybe it’s up his sleeve, he thinks wryly, as he follows Darry into the house. The swell of warmth and banter and steam from the hot stove envelope him and he lets himself settle into it like a second coat.

Dallas demands a round of blackjack and Two-Bit slaps a cold beer in his hand to hold against his still swollen head, and while Steve and Soda make a righteous mess of being Darry’s sioux-chefs, Ponyboy collapses at his feet with a book in hand and a chewed pencil in his mouth. He tilts his head back to look up at Johnny.

“Wanna go bum a movie tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

The drone of the television scores their slow dispersion into the night, save for Johnny, letting the couch springs dig into his back as he watches occasional passing headlights trace beams up the walls. Here, it’s quiet. 

He rests. 

*****

The first episode of Antiques Roadshow didn’t air in the U.S. until 1997, but we’re gonna pretend that’s just not the case because I said so and think it’s cute. God bless public television programming.

Thank you so much for reading, and please drop a comment or a reblog below! They help so much, and whether it's a thesis or a keyboard smash, each notification truly makes my week.

[hsm-multi-housing]

Hal Watson Joins Henry S. Miller to Launch HSM Multi Housing LLC

Dallas, TX – HSM Multi Housing LLC is a new joint venture between Henry S. Miller Company and SNK Realty Group, two leading real estate firms with a shared vision of developing and operating multifamily and mixed-use projects in Texas and beyond.  

The new company will be led by Hal Watson, a seasoned real estate professional with over 35 years of experience in the industry. 

Watson started his career at Henry S. Miller Company as a summer intern while studying at Harvard and later co-founded SNK Realty Group in San Francisco, where he developed 8,000 units of multifamily and mixed-use residential projects across the western United States with the backing of Osaka’s Kishimoto Building Group.  

Watson said he is thrilled to return to HSM and join forces to create value for their clients and communities. “I have always admired HSM’s legacy and reputation in the Texas market and I look forward to working with their talented team to deliver high-quality multifamily and mixed-use projects that meet the needs and expectations of today’s residents and investors,” he said.  

Robert DuBois, Chief Financial Officer of HSM, welcomed Watson back to the company and praised his expertise and leadership. “Hal is a great addition to our multifamily division. He has a wealth of knowledge and experience that will enhance our capabilities and expand our opportunities in this dynamic sector,” he said.  

Greg Miller, Chief Executive Officer of HSM, expressed his excitement about the new joint venture and the reunion with his old friend and cousin-in-law. “Hal is a family member and a respected colleague who has built an impressive track record of success in the multifamily and mixed-use arena. We are delighted to have him back at HSM and partner with him on this new venture that will leverage our combined strengths and resources to create exceptional real estate solutions for our clients,” he said.  

Henry S. Miller Company is one of the oldest and most respected real estate firms in Texas. Founded in 1914, the company offers a full range of commercial real estate services, including brokerage, property management, financial, development, and appraisal services. The company’s team of highly skilled and motivated professionals is committed to providing exemplary service to sophisticated investors and clients in need of real estate services.

[dallasjewelryappraiser0]

Getting a Jewelry Appraisal Near Me in Frisco: Why It’s Essential

Whether you’re looking to insure your valuable pieces or simply curious about their current worth, getting a Jewelry Appraisal near me in Frisco is a crucial step in managing your collection. Jewelry holds sentimental and financial value, and understanding its true worth is vital, especially if you're considering selling, insuring, or bequeathing your precious items.

Why Appraise Your Jewelry?

Jewelry appraisals are more than just evaluations of monetary value—they provide detailed insights into the craftsmanship, authenticity, and market demand for each piece. Many people don't realize how much their jewelry's value can fluctuate due to changes in the market, or how much an heirloom may be worth. A professional appraisal ensures you get accurate, up-to-date information.

Insuring Your Jewelry

If you’ve invested in high-value pieces, insurance is a must. However, insurers require appraisals to determine the right coverage amount. Without an appraisal, you might not receive full compensation if your jewelry is lost or damaged. Getting a Jewelry Appraisal near me in Frisco ensures that you can provide your insurer with the necessary documentation.

Selling or Reselling Jewelry

When selling or reselling jewelry, it's essential to know its real market value. Appraisals help you avoid being underpaid and can increase your negotiation power with potential buyers. In addition, a well-documented appraisal offers buyers peace of mind, knowing the jewelry's worth has been professionally verified.

Finding a Reliable Jewelry Appraiser

For anyone located in Frisco or nearby, finding a trusted jewelry appraiser is easy. One reliable option is Dallas Jewelry Appraiser, where expert appraisers are ready to provide accurate, certified appraisals for all types of jewelry.

Conclusion

Whether you need to insure, sell, or simply value a piece of jewelry, getting a professional Jewelry Appraisal near me in Frisco is an essential step. Not only will it protect your investment, but it will also give you peace of mind knowing the true value of your cherished possessions.

[dankusner]

Ignoring appraisal letters could prove costly

Some people get mail from a company that offers to place a homestead exemption on their primary property to save tax money.

I’ve warned to avoid companies in the past that charge for this free service.

This year, thousands of Texans are getting letters from their appraisal district warning they could lose their homestead exemption because their Texas driver’s license or state ID card doesn’t match the address on their primary property.

This is no scam.

A homestead exemption is a huge tax break designed to lower the taxable value of a property.

Most will never get the letter, but those whose address on a driver’s license or state ID card doesn’t match their primary appraised property eventually will.

The Watchdog worries that receivers of these notes won’t pay attention.

Under a new state law, every one of the state’s appraisal districts must audit its homestead discounts.

Letters get mailed out, and if the ID doesn’t match the property address, recipients must mail in a copy of their ID.

If they don’t and lose their exemptions, their property taxes will jump by hundreds and even thousands of dollars.

I worry that low-income neighborhoods will feel the brunt of this new law.

The letters are written in legal language.

Plus, I am upset that the letters are not going out in Spanish or Vietnamese, only English.

“There’s going to be collateral damage,” property tax consultant Glenn Goodrich says.

Are you affected?

If the address on your driver’s license or state ID doesn’t match your primary address for tax appraisal purposes, you need to update your card if it has expired.

I’m sure some people are confused.

These letters are new under a 2023 state law.

If you’re not sure of your status, check your account on your appraisal district’s website.

Or call the district.

What amazes me is how much money some people who don’t take this seriously are going to lose.

For instance, they’ll lose the massive discount on the school property tax that raised the exemption last year from $40,000 to $100,000.

Losing $100,000 off your taxable value is a huge hit.

Seniors and the disabled could lose their discount and, worse, their frozen taxes.

And some, like Dallas ISD taxpayers, would lose the extra 20% they are able to deduct from their value now.

If someone ignores these letters, under law, they can come back and get a refund for overpaying for the past two years.

But who wants that hassle?

Every appraisal district can do this differently.

In Tarrant County, the warning letters went out earlier this year.

In Dallas, some owners told me they received the letters a few weeks ago.

The goal of this new auditing system is to find fraud.

It’s estimated the state could recoup billions of dollars in lost tax revenue because of those who don’t pay their fair share.

Another estimate is that only 1% of exemption claimers face this.

But that’s a lot when you count the number of property owners.

If you get one of these letters, it’s a request of proof and an invitation to reapply for your exemption.

This is a huge change from the previous practice where you filed for your homestead exemption once and that was that.

Now appraisal districts are doing these audits or hiring outside companies.

Every property should be audited at least once every five years under the new law.

In Tarrant County, 14,000 warning letters were mailed and 7,500 have responded so far.

The bad news is that 2,200 have not responded at all and are in danger of cancellation, Chief Appraiser Joe Don Bobbitt told The Watchdog.

In Dallas, there are 580,000 exemptions with about 19,000 owners who were red-flagged this year so far in the most recent audit.

That’s the highest number of reapply letters sent out by the Dallas Central Appraisal District since 2021.

The Dallas Central Appraisal District uses various techniques to check for matching addresses.

They include death records and websites like Lexis-Nexis and PublicData.com.

https://login.publicdata.com

Undeliverable mail without a forwarding notice also gets red-flagged.

Those targeted get several warning letters.

State Sen. Paul Bettencourt, R-Houston, who wrote most of the new tax law, told me the law is a one-page “concept bill” whose specific details will be ironed out in the 2025 Texas Legislature.

He called the prevention of fraud “a worthy goal.”

One more worry.

As NBC5 investigative reporter Scott Friedman reported recently, the wait for an appointment for a driver’s license at Department of Public

Safety offices is ridiculously long.

[robertsbig60]

We Buy Homes Dallas, Investment Property

We Buy Homes Dallas, Investment Property

We Buy Homes Dallas, Lots of investors are looking to get started, and as active real estate experts in Dallas, Tx., we get asked to share our secrets quite a bit. One of the biggest questions we get from local investors is how do we find to find a good investment property, as usual my answer is “we buy homes Dallas.” Fortunately, we love to share :-). As we share what we do to find…

[p-oconnor]

How Much Can You Save with Dallas Central Appraisal District Protest?

Filing a protest with the Dallas Central Appraisal District could mean tax savings. If your property is overvalued, an appeal may adjust your tax bill, helping reduce your yearly property expenses. You may find more information by clicking here Dallas central Appraisal district

[oconnor2023]

Dallas Central Appraisal District

Seventy-five percent of the informal and seventy-seven percent of the Appraisal Review Board property (ARB) tax protests filed in Dallas County were successful. Read more @ https://www.poconnor.com/dallas-county/

[diamondjewelrywholesalersdallas]

Finding the Perfect Diamond Rings Near Me in Frisco

When it comes to celebrating love and commitment, few symbols are as cherished as a diamond ring. If you’re searching for “diamond rings near me” in Frisco, you’re in for a delightful experience. Frisco, Diamond Rings Near Me FriscoTexas, is home to numerous jewelers offering a stunning selection of diamond rings, each with its own unique charm and elegance.

Why Choose Diamond Jewelry Wholesalers Dallas?

One of the top destinations for diamond rings in the Frisco area is Diamond Jewelry Wholesalers Dallas. They specialize in providing high-quality diamond jewelry at wholesale prices, making it easier for you to find the perfect ring without breaking the bank. Their commitment to customer satisfaction and extensive selection makes them a favorite among locals.

Tips for Choosing the Perfect Diamond Ring

When shopping for a diamond ring, consider the following tips to ensure you make the best choice:

1. Understand the Four Cs

Cut: The way a diamond is cut affects its brilliance and sparkle. Look for well-cut stones to maximize their beauty.

Color: Diamonds come in various colors, from colorless to shades of yellow and brown. Choose a color that appeals to you.

Clarity: Clarity refers to the presence of imperfections in the diamond. Higher clarity usually means a more valuable stone.

Carat Weight: This measures the diamond’s size. Consider how much weight you want in relation to your budget.

2. Set a Budget

Determine how much you’re willing to spend before you start shopping. This will help you narrow down your options and avoid overspending.

3. Explore Different Settings

The setting of the diamond can significantly impact its overall look. From classic solitaires to modern halo settings, explore various styles to find one that resonates with your personal taste.

4. Get an Appraisal

If you’re investing in a high-quality diamond ring, consider getting an independent appraisal to verify its value and authenticity.

5. Ask About Warranties and Return Policies

A reputable jeweler will offer warranties and flexible return policies, providing you with peace of mind in your purchase.

Why Shop Local in Frisco?

Shopping locally not only supports small businesses but also provides you with the opportunity to see and try on rings in person. Frisco boasts a variety of jewelers, including Diamond Jewelry Wholesalers Dallas, where you can receive personalized service and expert advice. Additionally, you can often find unique styles that aren’t available in larger chain stores.

Conclusion

If you’re on the hunt for diamond rings near you in Frisco, look no further than Diamond Jewelry Wholesalers Dallas. Diamond Rings Near Me Frisco With their extensive selection and commitment to customer satisfaction, you’re sure to find a ring that captures the essence of your love story. Visit their website or stop by their showroom to start your journey toward finding the perfect diamond ring today!

This article can serve as a useful resource for anyone searching for diamond rings in the Frisco area while providing a valuable backlink to Diamond Jewelry Wholesalers Dallas.

[adamnoblesblog]

How Business Valuation in Dallas Helps Boost Your Sale Price

Knowing the true market value will help a business get the highest price at sale. Business valuation services assist you by delivering an accurate appraisal of your business's worth. Dallas business owners should look for a trusted business valuation company, preferably located in Dallas, Texas, for local expertise to help maximize the sale price. Read more: https://qr.ae/p2w1lO