#Car Dealer Website

[thinkingabout-girls]

WHO gave you a fucking CAR. - Skylar

i was entrusted with a motorized vehicle by the appropriate means

[icecubedigitalindia]

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[ayuvyayurveda]

Best Cars To Buy: Which One Should You Purchase

In order to make an informed buying decision, there are a number of factors to take into account. From the make and model to the cost and features, it can be difficult to decide which car is the best fit for you. In this essay, I will discuss two of the best cars to buy: the Honda Civic and the Toyota Corolla. 

Honda Civic

There is no doubt that Honda Civics are one of the most popular cars on the market. It is reliable, efficient, and affordable. The Honda Civic has a variety of features that make it an ideal choice for many drivers. It has a spacious interior, comfortable seating, and a powerful engine. Additionally, the Honda Civic is known for its excellent fuel economy, making it an economical choice for those looking to save money on gas. The Honda Civic also comes with a variety of safety features, such as airbags, anti-lock brakes, and stability control. 

The Honda Civic is also available in a variety of trim levels, allowing drivers to customize their cars to fit their needs and budget. The base model is equipped with a 1.5-litre four-cylinder engine that produces 158 horsepower and 138 pound-feet of torque. Higher trim levels offer more powerful engines and additional features, such as navigation and a sunroof. 

Toyota Corolla

The Toyota Corolla is another great option for those looking for a reliable and affordable car. The Corolla is known for its excellent fuel economy and low maintenance costs. The Corolla also comes with a variety of features, such as air conditioning, power windows and locks, and cruise control. Additionally, the Corolla is available in a variety of trim levels, allowing drivers to customize their cars to fit their needs and budget. 

The Corolla is equipped with a 1.8-litre four-cylinder engine that produces 132 horsepower and 128 pound-feet of torque. Higher trim levels offer more powerful engines and additional features, such as navigation and a sunroof. The Corolla also comes with a variety of safety features, such as airbags, anti-lock brakes, and stability control. 

Sell Cars Online

The internet has revolutionized the way we buy and sell goods, and cars are no exception. With the advent of online car sales, it is now easier than ever to purchase a car from the comfort of your own home. Selling cars online has many advantages, such as convenience, cost savings, and access to a wider range of vehicles. In this essay, I will discuss the benefits of selling cars online and how to go about doing so.

The Benefits of Selling Cars Online

Selling cars online offers many advantages over traditional methods of car sales. It is obvious that convenience is one of the biggest benefits. With online car sales, buyers can browse through a wide selection of vehicles from the comfort of their own homes. This eliminates the need to travel to a dealership or other physical location to view the cars in person. Additionally, online car sales can save buyers money since they do not have to pay for transportation or other associated costs. 

How to Sell Cars Online

Selling cars online is relatively easy and straightforward. The first step is to create an online listing for the car. This listing should include detailed information about the car, such as its make, model, year, mileage, and any other relevant details. It should also include photos of the car so that potential buyers can get an idea of what it looks like. 

Once the listing is created, it should be posted on various websites and social media platforms. This will help to increase visibility and attract potential buyers. Additionally, it is important to respond promptly to any inquiries from potential buyers. This will help to create a positive impression and increase the chances of making a sale. 

Finally, it is important to be honest, and transparent when selling cars online. Buyers should be provided with accurate information about the car and any associated costs. Additionally, it is important to be upfront about any potential issues or problems with the car so that buyers can make an informed decision. 

Conclusion In conclusion, selling cars online has many advantages over traditional methods of car sales. It is convenient, cost-effective, and provides access to a wider range of vehicles. Additionally, it is relatively easy to go about selling cars online by creating an online listing and posting it on various websites and social media platforms. Finally, it is important to be honest and transparent when you sell cars online in order to create a positive impression and increase the chances of making a sale.

[dilfl0v3rss]

Can we get a Drug dealer!Ony smut with a introverted, social anxiety, nail tech reader? Cause babbyyyy your Ony smut got me in my feels 😩

somethings wrong wit my brain rn idk why, but here bae💋❤️❤️

“you did good mama m’prouda you” ony groaned as he looked down at where the two of you were connected between your legs. his hands laying flat next to your head as he stroked you with every inch of his dick. “t-thank you” your whiny voice made a smirk appear on his face, his inked hand sneaking to your throat before squeezing it as he spoke. “thank you what?” his hips moved a little quicker, forcing more pretty sounds from you as your back arched off the couch. “tha-…thank you daddy” you were laid flat on the little couch in the salon he gifted you, ony’s hand pushing lightly on your stomach and his other was wrapped tightly around your throat as he fed you beautifully deep strokes. “good girl mama. always call daddy when you start feeling overwhelmed ‘kay” you quickly nodded your head, giving him a drawn out “mhmm” as you felt your arousal begin to drip from you onto the cushion.

every time you were having a rough day and your anxiety was getting the best of you, you were instructed to always call your boyfriend. ony didn’t care if he was in the middle of a drop, if you needed him he was going to drop everything and get to you. you always decided against taking him up on his offer, never wanting to seem like a bother, but you had no choice today. you were finishing up on a clients full set when you seen her friend, who was supposed to waiting outside, come in and start commenting on her friends nails. “damn girl you taking hella long” she mumbled taking your clients hand as you worked in the other one.

on your website it clearly states that only the person who set the appointment is allowed to be inside, with the exception of kids and people with disabilities. this girl clearly didn’t read it because instead of shooing her friend away, she proceeded to have a full blown conversation with her in front if you, making you extremely uncomfortable. the mumbling back and forth between the two women had your heart beating rapidly. feelings of unease and distress began to creep up on you and before you knew it, your hands had a slight shake to them. “s’cuse me” you mumbled before heading straight for the quiet room ony set up for you when you needed some time to cool down or when you are waiting on a client to arrive.

as soon as you closed the door, you locked it and made your way to the comfy couch by the wall to calm yourself down. like the day couldn’t get any worse, you heard a slight knock on the door. “uhh we kinda got somewhere t’be so can you hurry up so i can pay you” the girl said. her slightly irritated voice followed by the mumbles and giggles to her friend behind the door made you do something you had no intention of doing until now.

“wassup baby, you aight?” ony mumbled, the sound of a distant “good looks” from a man in the background as well as the clanking of his gear shift beginning to move telling you everything you needed to know, he was working. you took a shaky breath, trying to gather yourself before telling him what was going on. ony didn’t need to hear anything else, the sound of your breathing telling him everything he needed to know as he turned his car around and headed towards your location. “m’commin mama” was all he said before putting phone on speaker and placing it in his cup holder. he stayed on the phone with you the whole ride, letting his presence soothe you.

before you knew it he was there. “what can i help you wit?” he asked the girls, nodding as they told him what they needed. you were finished with the girls set and all you needed were a couple pictures for your website, but that was at the back of you and ony’s mind. he quickly rang her up her before kindly leading them out and locking the door. he changed the sign from open to closed. “s’jus me now mama” he mumbled, before listening to you get up and unlock the door. the sight of your watery eyes made his heart break as he lightly pulled your head into his chest. your arms wrapped around him immediately as he let his other hand rub all over your back. “i gotchu baby”

the sound of his heartbeat made yours instinctively slow to match his. your shaky breaths being replaced with one’s full of relaxation as you lifted your head to get a look at your man. ony gave you a smirk, making you instantly roll your eyes before letting him go and walk towards the couch to sit back down. “don’t act all hard now, you know you want me here” he walked towards you, sitting down on the couch with his legs spread. “come sit, you still a little tense and i got just the thing to loosen you up” a devilish smirk graced ony’s features as he lightly patted his thigh.

before long you were laid on your back, taking stroke after deep stroke from the man of your dreams. his hips rocking into your thighs as he worked his hands all around your body. “how it feel mama, you loose yet?” he groaned, the far away look in your eyes telling him everything he needed to know as you mindlessly nodded along to his words. ony chuckled as he brought his thumb to your clit. “this gon bring you back” he said, and it did. a loud moan flew from your lips as you felt the extra stimulation on your clit, his thumb continuing to rub in circles as he let spit fall from his mouth to your pussy. the liquid rolling down from where his thumb was all the way down to where you were joined together. the sight of the action made your pussy flutter as you cried out for him. “papaaaa i f-feel better….s’too muchhh” you whined, your much smaller hands pushing and pulling at his tattooed arm as ony kept on torturing your clit. “i know mama, but daddy had a rough day too. i helped you s’now it’s your turn t’help me”

safe to assume you had to reschedule the rest of your appointments for the day.

[power-chords]

Michael Mann: So there’s this guy, he sucks, he’s consumed by a formless guilt and lowkey wants to be purified in death, he’s a cop with a Napoleon complex played by Al Pacino. He possesses innate Vaudevillian talent but uses it exclusively to reign state terror or evade authentic emotional commitment. He’s an empath. He has BPD. He’s a Manic Pixie Vietnam Veteran who may or may not have committed war crimes and dropped out of law school because why interpret the law when you can be the motherfucking law. He lets his hot wife tie him up in bed and then skips off to chase guys around. He dresses like an undertaker who moonlights as a used car salesman and wears a watch that would not look out of place on a drug dealer or Howard Ratner. He has apparently developed some kind of autochthonous personal slang that everybody around him just rolls with because he has inexplicable charisma despite being observably violent and insane. He’s a superficially doting but absent stepfather careening for divorce number three. His idea of trauma therapy is police brutality street theater while high on speed.

Me: At last, I understand the mythical “blorbo” archetype of which this website speaks.

[buryustogether]

-> HEATSTROKES AND OTHER MEET CUTES

saul bright x f!reader (not v)

wc: 5.3k

summary: after suffering a severe heatstroke and the beatdown of your life, you stumble across a nomad camp in the badlands. their leader is willing to offer a helping hand.

warnings/tags: heatstrokes, getting mugged, guns, blood, swearing, vomiting, mentions of rape/noncon, undressing in front of a stranger, strangers to lovers, thigh riding, smut, use of good girl, running away

author’s note: come get y’all’s bullshit

You had heard the same phrase over and over again.

You’d heard it at bars from truckers who had driven through the deserts all day and all night to avoid stopping out in the open. Their eyes were stamped with purple half-moons, expressions slack with exhaustion and fatigue they barely fought off. Their clothes were dusty despite never once stepping out of their cabs, and they spoke as if they’d seen the rapture itself out in those barren wastelands.

You’d heard it from ex-nomads who had sought to give up their lives in the deserts, too scarred from what they’d seen and endured to carry on out in the open. Their hands were calloused and their lips dry, always carrying around bits and traces of their old life, no matter how far they ran or how hard they tried to scrub all the dust off.

You’d heard it from mercenaries who’d had the misfortune of working jobs out there in the flat, dry banks and plains. They shook their heads when asked about it, said that some things just needed to lay down and fuckin’ die. Their gazes danced with ravens and scavenger birds picking at something unseen in the brush, and their footsteps were a little lighter than they once had been, as if they were scared of leaving footprints in sand that wasn’t even there.

You had heard the same phrase over and over again.

“If you think Night City is bad, wait until you get out to the Badlands.”

You had always thought they were being dramatic. Silly. Ridiculous. It was all just a bunch of desert, nothing but rocky mountain ridges and a brutal, unforgiving sun that found a way through the clouds even if the heavens themselves refused to part.

You had been wrong. So very, horribly, awfully wrong.

Sand clinging to your pants, your hair, your shoes - everything - weighed you down as you slowly trudged your way through the nothingness of the Badlands back toward the city. The tops of the skyscrapers and the holo-ads just barely prodded at the horizon, teasing you in a mirage of sorts. Miles. Miles upon miles left until you reached salvation, safety, relief.

You couldn’t help but pant with parted lips as you feebly stepped up a ridge and forced your legs to move along - one after the other. That’s all. That’s all that it was. And yet, the simple act of walking felt as though it were the most impossible thing you’d ever done.

Nothing in your parched, sun-fried brain could tell you what the hell you had even been thinking coming all the way out here. You’d struck up a deal with a wastelander over the net abour buying a bike that looked preem enough to have come straight from the dealer’s website. Now, you were sure that’s where it had been from.

By the time you’d parked your car in the middle of the abandoned lot you and the seller had agreed to meet at, it had been too late. You’d been met with a tap on your window from the end of a pistol barrel, and on the other side had been a man wearing a mask over his face and goggles over his eyes to shield himself from the sand blowing in the breeze.

The was a blur in the forefront of your mind, too fast and miserable and beige-tinted to remember much.

The scavengers had pulled you from your car and stripped you of anything useful you had - your pieces, the tools from your trunk, hell - they’d even taken your belt buckle, thinking it to be worth anything more than a few dozen eddies. You had cried out, screamed for help as they backed you against your car and beat the living sense out of you, but of course no one had come. Your yells had been noting more than a few whispers on the wind, as far as anyone else was concerned. They had left you in that lot, staring up at the blinding sky, feeling blood slip from your mouth and trickle down the side of your face. Gasping for air in your bruised lungs.

Wondering how you had been so fucking stupid.

You’d been walking for what felt like hours now - the sun was beginning to set over the jagged tops of the mountains, threatening to drench you in the everlasting darkness of the Badlands. If you could get scammed, jacked, and hacked in broad daylight, you were terrified to think of what could happen when not even the light was there to guide you.

Water was merely a dream, an illusion, as was any hope of making it back to the city in one piece. Your feet dragged behind you and your heart thundered in your ears. A migraine like you’d never felt before was pounding like a jackhammer at the front of your skull, blurring your vision at the edges, and for every five steps you took forward, you stumbled back three to keep your balance. You knew if you fell to the grainy, unforgiving ground now, you’d never be getting back up again.

A low, exhausted moan escaped your lips as you half-collapsed, rocks and sharp-edged pebbles digging into your palms as you fought to keep yourself upright. You had no one back home - no significant other, no family, hardly many people you knew well enough to call friends. If you died out here, no one would come looking for you. You’d become another statistic of the missing persons files, forever lost out here to the uneven dunes and hungry landscape.

Just when you were about to finally keel over and call it quits, finally acknowledge that you weren’t going to ever touch the paved tarmac of the Night City streets again, you created a small ridge and laid eyes upon light. A small, grouped number of glowing lights, illuminating the faint shapes of trucks, and bikes, and makeshift tents and lean-tos.

Nomads.

It was a nomad camp.

Your heart surged in your hollow chest and you picked up your pace, ignoring the aching in your legs and the dry, grainy feeling scratching at your lungs.

“Hey,” you said softly, then covered your mouth with a fist as you coughed and hacked. Each spasm was as painful as pins dancing along your throat. You stumbled forward, approaching the camp slowly, watching as the shapes grew more clear and the lights became brighter. You could see the silhouettes of people wandering about their business, gathered around campfires and discussing lazy topics over bottles of beer. You ached for just a sip - just a single drop to roll down your tongue.

You had just reached the perimeter of the nomad camp when, like a star falling from the sky, a miniature explosion detonated just inches from your feet. As you helped and tipped sideways, collapsing in the sand, you realized it had not been an explosion, but a bullet landing before you in a warning. Your ears rang like bells as you feebly rolled onto all fours, your head spinning. The nomads were blurs of motion as they moved, shouting and calling commands, racing to and fro. They were preparing - for what? It was only you here.

Only parched, fried, dying you.

A croaked gasp was pulled from your cracked lips when a boot shoved you over, sending you onto your back. Not a moment later, the barrel of a rifle was shoved against your throat. The metal was cool. You fought against the instinct to wrap your hand around the barrel and pull it closer.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” spat the young woman at the other end of the rifle. “Pretty stupid to try and sneak up on us all by yourself. Tell me how many of you there are, and I might think about letting you keep your head.”

You blinked tiredly, the world going in and out of focus like a video with bad resolution, as two more men skidded to a stop beside the woman to peer down at you.

“Good shot, Panam,” said one.

“Mm,” agreed the other on her right. He brandished a slick pistol and aimed it at your middle, ignoring the way you gasped and cried silently for air, for water, for anything. “I wouldn’t have been so kind.”

You heaved in a dry breath, your tongue refusing to work. You would have cried out of pain, out of frustration and exasperation, but no tears were able to crawl into the corners of your eyes. You were sucked dry, with nothing left to give except the sweat rolling down your back and neck.

“How many of you are there?” the woman called Panam demanded again. She placed a heavy boot on your chest, restricting a bit of whatever airflow you had left, and your eyes widened. Scrabbling at her ankle, you kicked aimlessly as you battled to inhale. “Tell me!” The boot pressed further, and you sputtered out a dry squawk. You heard her pull the bolt of her rifle, felt the used cartridge bounce off your arm. “Last chance, you scav scum.”

“Panam!” There came a loud, booming voice that seemed to shake the ground beneath you, commanding respect and authority over all else surrounding you - even nature itself. The boot was lifted off your chest and you raised a trembling hand to your throat, taking a short, shaky breath in. Through the dizzying spinning of the world and the hammer-like thundering in your skull, you turned your head slightly and caught the hazy figure of a man striding toward the scene with broad, level shoulders and boots that were scuffed with years wear and tear. That was all you were able to catch before you covered your eyes with your hands and moaned for a breath, for a drink, for anything that would bring you from this dry hell.

“What was that shot?” asked the new man as he approached the others. “What’s going on here?”

“Stopped a scav from sneaking under our noses.” The toe of Panam’s boot nudged your leg. “Pretty lousy, scav, at that.”

You listened to that heavy pair of footsteps come closer until they were right beside your head. A hand, large and rough with calluses from hard work and manual labor, took your wrist and pulled it away from your face. Through your haze you could only just make out an arm lined with tattoos, a head full of hair like chestnut that draped over shoulders, and a well-kept beard. You opened your mouth to babble out an apology, to beg that they let you go, but all that came out was a raspy groan.

“Dammit, Panam, she’s not a scav.” The man released your arm, turned away from you. “She’s from the city. Look at her clothes. She’s not from out here.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” came the reply, almost childlike in its nature. “I see someone trying to get the jump on us, I take them out. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Protect each other?”

“Go back to your hut. No more guard duty for the rest of the night.”

“Saul-“

“Now, Panam.”

You listened to a hiss of fury and the sound of fading footsteps before slowly attempting to roll over onto your hands and knees. That unreasonable, delusional part of you was beginning to take over. Maybe if you were quick, you could sneak away…

Your feeble escape attempt was halted when that same hand as before grabbed your shoulder and rolled you back around onto your backside. You weren’t able to put up much of a fight, only gasp and paw at clothes and skin, as those hands wrapped under your shoulders to lift you up off the rocky, sweltering ground.

“Mitch,” said the man above you. Saul? “Grab her feet. Help me bring her up.”

Another pair of hands wrapped around your calves and suddenly you were lifted off the desert floor, being carried through the nomad camp like a prize from the latest hunt. You couldn’t do much but moan and gasp in short breaths, watching with dazed eyes as the sun finally disappeared behind the range.

“Where to? The doc’s?” said the man at your feet.

“My space,” said the other at your head. “She’s dehydrated to all hell and back. I’ve got the keys to our reserves in my truck.”

What could have been either seconds or hours later - you’d all but lost track of all meaning of time - the men carried you up a set of stairs leading into a hollowed-out semi truck. You saw the shapes and frames of a couch and a tool bench, a bed and a little folding table in the corner. They set you down on the bed, carefully lifting your feet comfortably out in front of you.

Then Saul, who had saved you from the young woman with a rifle, who had carried you all the way up into this truck, pulled a ring of keys from a space beneath the table and tossed them to his partner. “Go and fetch a whole jug,” he instructed, and within just a moment, Mitch was gone.

Saul disappeared, too. You watched as he exited the truck, shouting to his people, and attempted to sit up in the bed. You’d heard things about nomads - that they kidnapped people from the city and held them for ransom, that they ran with the coyotes and ate what they left behind. You’d never seen any evidence of these claims, but you weren’t about to find out.

You had just managed to swing one leg over the edge of the bed before Saul, hulking and sinewy in the doorway of the semi, reappeared. He gently, but firmly, pushed you back down onto the mattress and lifted your leg to where it had been.

“Easy, girl,” he said and leaned over you. You shut your eyes when he draped a cold, wet cloth over your forehead. “Keep still, hear? Don’t need you collapsing again on us.”

Mitch entered the truck lugging a large, clear jug of water at his side. At the sight of it, of what you’d been thinking of for hours, you pushed against Saul and attempted to tumble out of the bed yourself.

“Good to see she’s still got some fight in her,” Mitch joked as he popped the tab of the jug and handed it to Saul. “At least she ain’t gone mad to the heat.”

“Not yet, anyway.” The muscles in his bare arms flexing beneath the ink of his tattoos, Saul lifted the jug’s tab to your lips and tipped it back. When you weren’t able to lift yourself to meet it, he nestled a hand beneath your sweaty head and raised it himself.

The moment the cool liquid hit your mouth, you almost moaned aloud at how sweet and wonderful it tasted. It felt even better going down your throat. You couldn’t ignore the fact that the hand cradling your head was sending butterflies through your veins at the same time, but your sole focus was on the water trickling down your chin and onto your shirt. Gulp after gulp, you drank, refusing to let the nomad pull the jug away, even when you felt your belly fill.

“Careful,” said Mitch as Saul again tried to pry the container from your lips. “Don’t drink it too fast or else -“

Before he could finish, you suddenly shoved the jug away and made to lean over the side of the bed. With the toe of his boot, Saul hooked a metal container beneath the bed and whisked it out onto the open floor. Not a moment later, you hung over the edge of the mattress and vomited water and bile into the pan. The retches heaved through your body in an uneven tempo, your systems overwhelmed from having been dry to the bone to suddenly flowing over with water.

When you finally returned to dry heaving, shaking as spit up ran down your chin and nose, Saul retrieved the wet cloth from where it had fallen on the bed and used it to gingerly wipe your face clean. Your chest, soaked through your shirt from the runoff water, heaved for breath as you let him settle you back down and offer a few chaser sips of water to your lips.

“You’re alright,” Mitch said as you felt your face heat upon the realization of what you’d just done - in front of strangers, no less. “We‘ve all been there. Can’t say you’re a nomad without suffering a few heatstrokes.” He picked up the pan as if it were nothing, then clambered down the steps into the open night. “I’ll get the air conditioning going,” he called back in, then heaved the semi’s door shut.

Slowly, as if you were surfacing from being held underwater, you began to regain your senses. Understand what was going on, where you were. You were in the middle of a nomad camp, in a truck, alone with a man called Saul. And he was pulling off your shoes. Blinking through tired eyes, you watched the ceiling of the truck as you felt him peel off your socks, as well. Then he began to fumble with the button of your pants.

Summoning every ounce of strength you had left to give, you thrashed like a cornered animal and cried out through your still-weary throat. Saul at once backed off, watching as you curled into yourself in the corner of the bed. Your eyelids were drooping, your arms and hands and fingers still shaking.

“Mmuh,” you mumbled over your dead tongue. You scooted further away when he took a step toward you. Fuck, the rumors had been true. They just wanted to use you and throw you back out into the desert when they were done. “Sta… sty’ back,” you warned, though you knew there was really nothing you would be able to do against him.

Saul raised a hand in a little surrender warning, keeping his short distance from your corner of the bed. “Easy, girl,” he said again. “Not going to hurt you.” He nodded with his head gingerly, a few strands of hair falling from his shoulder to his neck. “We need to get your clothes off. You’re not going to cool down any faster than spending a night out here in the Badlands. Your skin needs to breathe, get its bearings again.”

For a long while, you considered him. His eyes were dark and stormy, heavy with a thousand burdens and not enough solutions. His movements were authoritative and stern, yet mindful and careful all at once, like he knew the repercussions his very footsteps may leave behind.

He did not seem like the kind of man who would throw you to the jackals and vultures.

Slowly, tentatively, you unfurled yourself and eased across the bed. He took a few steps closer, gently easing you back onto your ass, and pulled your shirt over your head. He had been right, you found; the moment your shirt left your body, it felt as though you were able to breathe again. The sand prodding against your skin, the feeling of carrying around another ton - it all went away. Though your arms were shaking, you managed to lift up your hips so that he could slide your pants off your legs, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

It would have felt strange being practically naked in front of a man you’d never met before - in front of a man who was standing so close that you felt his breath on your shoulder - but something within you felt slightly at ease. This man was taking care of you, inspecting the bruises along your arms and middle with a touch that just only ghosted your skin, gave you tiny sips of water - just enough to keep you on the edge, leaning forward for more.

After Saul had helped you wrap up in a sheet and left a mug of water where you could reach it, he took a seat on the couch facing the bed. When he sat, he let out a deep sigh, and you noticed he let his left leg straighten and relax while his rig remained bent and stiff. A bad joint, perhaps?

For a while, a long, still silence filled the belly of the truck. You took little drinks from the mug, keeping it close to your chest, your eyes trained on Saul’s fingers. A couple of rings adorned his knuckles, glinting in the light from the lamp sat beside the couch. His fingers were long and thick, rough with scars and calluses, each with a story of their own. You shifted, slightly ashamed, when a short rush of arousal shot to your core.

What kinds of things, besides tune-ups, and feeding his people, and firing a gun could those hands do?

“Thank you,” you found yourself saying, finally able to gain control of your tongue again. You swallowed thick and hunched your shoulders. “For helping me. I’m… I’m sure you have lots of other people to keep well-taken care of.”

Saul released a groan from deep in his chest, sounding akin to some kind of agreement. “I do,” he said, rubbing at his temple. “But just because someone’s not my people doesn’t mean I turn them away when they’re in need.“

Outside, someone had begun to strum a melody on a guitar. A number of voices sang along to a song you didn’t know, a harmony of deep and light and wonderful and awful.

These people weren’t savages or plunderers. They were friends. They were a family.

Perhaps… perhaps the rumors had been wrong, after all.

You took another sip of water and reached up to wipe your lip with your thumb. You found him watching your movements. “Listen, I’ll be out of your hair in a while. I just… I just needed to rest a while.”

Saul hummed again. “No,” he said in such a commanding tone you were at once inclined to agree with him. “You’ll stay here for the night. If you’re feeling up to it tomorrow, we’ll take you back to town. We were heading there to stock up on supplies, anyhow.”

You said nothing at first. How incredibly scary this man had been at first, towering over you on the ground with those dark, broody eyes trained on your very soul. But now he was… rather charming. Dark and mysterious, sure, but no less attractive.

You realized you had been staring at him. And he had been staring at you.

Switching your gaze down to your mug of water, because you felt as though you’d blurt out all the filthy things you were thinking if you kept looking at him, you swallowed down the last few bits of sand sticking to your throat. “So, is that… Panam… is she your kid?”

The man before you gave a sort of scoff and a twitch of his lips - you’d hit a sore subject. “Something like that,” he answered shortly, then reached up and harrumphed as he flicked a piece of hair over his shoulder. “We picked her up years ago when she was young. Brought her up for a while. Recently, she’s started to push back. Question how things run around here.” He raised a hand and dropped it again, and it occurred to you that perhaps you were the first person he’d unloaded this burden on in a long time. “She doesn’t get that everything I do around here is for the best - for everyone. Even if it doesn’t align with her own morals.”

For a long while, silence enveloped the gutted belly of the truck. You set your mug down on the floor and hugged the sheet tighter around yourself. Outside, the song being played ended with a loud, overjoyed cheer from its singers. They all sounded so… happy. Content. At peace.

“Well,” you said slowly, hoping you weren’t crossing any lines, “I, uhm… I haven’t really been here lucid enough to think straight long, but… it seems like you’re doing something right.” When he settled his gaze upon you, you nodded to the door leading out into the night illuminated by song and campfire glow. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen so much… camaraderie before. This day and age, it’s kill or be killed, but you all…” You trailed off, shrugging your bare shoulders beneath the sheet. “You have each other. I can’t really talk much, but that seems like something to be proud of.”

Saul, for once in the short while you’d been sitting with him, seemed to be short of answers to your words.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline high that had been fueling your brain not too long ago, or maybe it was the feeling that spread throughout your abdomen when he looked at you, but something propelled you to scoot forward on the bed and try to rise to your feet.

Saul stood just as you climbed into a stand, reaching out to keep you down on the bed, but you reacted first. You stumbled forward on your still-wobbly feet and tumbled right into his broad chest. He exhaled a surprised grunt. You both landed back on the couch, only now you were straddling his thick, muscular thigh and your front was pressed against his without a sliver of space between you.

Your breaths each came out in puffs and pants, startled by the sudden fall. It wasn’t long before you each sprung into action.

He leaned forward to meet you halfway when you brought your lips toward his, locking your mouths together with the same kind of fervor you gave. His hands were firm but gentle all at once, mindful of the sore spots along your arms and middle, as if he’d memorized each and every place where a bruise blossomed. They eventually landed on your barely-clothed hips. While he busied himself, like an explorer mapping out new, unfamiliar terrain, you licked your tongue into his mouth and pulled him by his hair closer. He tasted of some musky liquor and a dense air you could not place. Rough and demanding, yet protective and heavy and like home - the way a leader should be.

When you finally pulled away from him to catch your breath, your chest now heaving and caving rapidly, Saul hummed lowly and nudged your forehead with his nose. “Ballsy, aren’t you, girl?” he said, and you shivered as you felt his hot breath fanning across your face. “Not a lot of people would shove their tongues down the throat of the leader of the Aldecados.” He took the point of your chin between his thumb and forefinger so that you peered up at him. “You’ve got courage. I admire that.”

By now, arousal had began to pool in the bottom of your belly like a coiled serpent, snapping and hissing to be set free. Your cunt ached, clenching around nothing, and you nearly moaned in relief when Saul shifted you over his thigh so that the rough material of his pants rubbed your clit through your panties just right. He noticed your reaction and hitched his leg slightly, causing you to bounce gently on his thigh. This time, a soft, quiet mewl did escape your throat.

Saul hummed and leaned forward to begin nipping and sucking love spots into the delicate skin of your neck. “Pretty girl likes getting off on my leg, doesn’t she?” he growled against the column of your throat. You gasped when he hitched his leg again, and a wonderful, delightful flood of leaden pleasure spread through your systems. “Do it, then. Show me just how tough you really are, baby.”

Who were you to object?

Clinging onto his muscular shoulders for support, you began rocking yourself against his clothed thigh, shifting and grinding so that your clit was stimulated in just the right way. Practically humping his hip, you let out soft, panting sighs and moans and mewls as you moved.

Saul’s hand moved around your back to unclasp your bra, moving you arms for just a fraction of a second so that he could pull it off and drop it to the floor. He pulled a long, high-pitched whimper from the bottom of your throat when he attached his lips to your nippe, beard scratching against the vulnerable skin of your chest. Pleasure like you weren’t sure you’d ever experienced coursed through you like fine whiskey or a static-infused drink from an overpriced club.

Fuck, this shouldn’t have felt this good.

But it did. It fucking did.

“Atta’ girl,” Saul muttered into the valley between your breasts when the rolls of your hips began to grow faster. He felt your arousal soaking through his pant leg, your panties completely ruined. You were chasing that high as your cunt clenched and you whined every time his lips pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses against your sternum. “Ride, cowgirl.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Saul,” you said, and repeated his name, that one word, that sounded like a chanted prayer now as you neared your end. That coil within you was tightening, that abused power source about to implode and take out everything with it. “Saul, Saul, Saul…!”

He pressed his lips flush against yours, hands splayed across the skin of your back, like he was shielding you from the rest of the world, claiming you. “Come on,” he breathed against your mouth. “Cum for me.”

You found you could not go against anything this man said.

With a shattered cry muffled by his shoulder, your hips stuttered and you hit your peak like a lone wanderer who never wanted to come down. You shoved your hips, your oversensitive clit, against his thigh, attempting to remain up in those clouds that felt you during your orgasm.

When you eventually came back around, you found Saul was pulling your hair from your sweaty face, whispering praise against the shell of your ear.

“Good girl,” he said in that low, husky tone of his that sent your stomach flipping. “My good girl. Tamed already, aren’t you?”

You gave a weak, half-hearted agreement. He shifted his weight so that he now lay across the couch with his feet propped against the opposite armrest and your limp form sprawled across his front. He squeezed your hips, fingertips playing with the hem of your soaked panties.

It seemed an eternity of still, peaceful quiet had passed when Saul spoke again. “You got anyone back home waiting for you?”

“No,” you answered at once. Perhaps too quickly, too eagerly. “It’s just me.”

“Hmm.” For a moment, he seemed to consider, his gaze - now simmering down from their previous state of lust-fueled frenzy - stuck to your head as he carded through your hair. “Didn’t make what I’d call a good first impression,” he said, “but I could convince the others to clear a seat for you around the fire. Scrounge up a spare motor. You know how to ride?”

It took your short-circuited brain a long minute to comprehend what he was saying. He was inviting you to join his family - the Aldecados.

You thought. You had nothing back in the city - just a cheap, shitty apartment, a dead end job, and a stack of bills only growing by the day. Chaos. Havoc. But out here… there was everything you didn’t know. The unknown of what might come the next day. Sandstorms, and bandits, and everything else in between… but a family. People willing to watch your back without expecting anything in return. Friends and cousins and brothers and sisters.

A man who had just fucked you senseless, and even still now, saw something within you he thought worthy enough to travel with him and his nomads.

The answer came out easier than expected. “Yeah,” you said and smiled up at him. “I can ride.”

[virtie333]

So, I woke at 2 with my brain going crazy and couldn't get back to sleep. The car I want to look at is still on the website so I sent an e-mail to the dealer to ask for a test drive this afternoon; praying it's still available and it's not a lemon, because it's exactly what I want. I also need to get my butt in gear and clean out my truck so I can put it up for sale. I just want it done. And I just want to stop crying all the time.

I need Poe (I'm gonna go re-read what I wrote yesterday)

[rreskk]

HEADCANONS: Trevor Philips (long edition)

TW: -Sexual and suggestive content -Mentions of drugs

-Have been in and out of pyschwards since childhood to adulthood. His mental health record is bombarded with therapists desperate for referrals and struggling for an accurate diagnosis.

-Babies absolutely hate Trevor. Being near him causes them to cry and cause a scene. He doesn’t even have to do anything to make them cry, being there is enough.

-Used to go to festivals regularly before meeting Michael to sell drugs for easy money (earning enough to skip rented rooms).

-Was apart of a punk band in his later teens but was kicked out for fighting the other members, but also starting a riot in an underground bar when he was supposed to be performing. He played guitar, occasionally backup vocalist.

-Trevor used to go to theatre clubs in his early childhood but his mother couldn’t afford to keep him in the classes (or couldn’t be bothered).

-He looks more like his mother than his father.

-Has a bed-wetting problem, even now (due to his drug abuse and… Well, inability to control his bladder).

-He made Michael help groom his moustache back in North Yankton.

-Has nightmares about jerking off too much that his dick won’t work.

-Trevor will reference hardcore literature quotes but will REFUSE to read any fictional book.

-Can go without blinking for over 5 minutes.

-Believed in Santa until he was 14 years old.

-His voicemail would be like this: *peeing in the background* If you ain’t sucking my meth or dick, fuck off or I’ll come over and rip your scalp off with a butterknife.

-Tried to pose for a mugshot back in North Yankton when he was arrested for drink driving… He tried to pull out his penis and jerk off for the picture but got tackled and restrained.

-Would often find himself trying on strangers high-heels in nightclubs and will proceed to test run in them (one time he fell and broke his nose because of it).

-One Halloween party back in the Mid-West, he dressed as a slutty-priest and ended up sleeping with an actual priest.

-Bites his toe-nails.

-Is a good drawer (but soooo bad at painting).

-Definitely has an eBay account, where he sells used underwear (saying they’re untouched and new) and broken Car Wheels so he can send them off and get money from scamming people.

-Has a collection of panties from hookers and strippers (he uses them sometimes).

-He has MASSIVE feet. I’m talking like… He has to buy boots from military websites because none in shops would fit him.

-Secretly has a fetish of Christian women (and taking their virginity) – This is inspired by Type O Negative’s song: Christian woman.

-Owned a dirt bike before story-mode but he had it taken away by cops (and since hasn’t had it returned).

-Used to make fake female moaning sounds in public places then pretend it wasn’t him so he can watch people argue and fight.

-Has a weakness for women in general. If you’re a lady and you want to buy meth, he’ll lower the prices and will try and persuade you to “spend quality time with your dealer to build trust and foundation” which basically means… So he can finger and have sex with you.

-Has attachments to his flings and hookers (will most likely spam call them when he’s sad or bored).

-His favourite movie is probably pulp fiction or Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

[things-about-cars-in-posts]

So, there's many of you now. I know we're in the How Sweet It Is Not To Know Follower Counts website and I do cherish that, but still, more people than ever in my life clicked a button that in some capacity says "I care what this dork has to tell me" and I want to acknowledge and celebrate that - especially now that this growth seems to have settled into its rhythm.

Spot when @identifying-cars-in-posts reblogged my pinned, lol.

So, for my 100th post, I felt like celebrating our love for reaching round numbers. And little in the automotive world represents it more iconically than what reigned supreme above all cars in the 1980s.

Porsche started out as an engineering firm, whose most notable contract was what would become known as the Volkswagen Beetle (and boy what a story that is). The first car of its own was the 356 seen below - a sporty body laid over Beetle underpinnings and thus still mostly made by Volkswagen. But by God, they were going to run with that recipe and perfect it 'til the sun burst.

Meanwhile, in England, a chap called Colin Chapman decides the next of his company's track cars will actually be drivable on the street, to need no trailer to go race. Thus the Lotus Seven is born and sold in kit, which avoids high taxes on the exporting of cars to the US (but those taxes would have remained had they been sold with assembly manuals… so they were sold with disassembly manuals for you to read backwards. No, seriously.).

The Porsche 356 kept getting less and less Volkswagen and more and more Porsche until in 1964, the year of the Beatles, the year of the Stones, the stone-age Beetle was left behind for good with the Porsche 911 (seen below), a blank-canvas take on the same recipe of an air-cooled rear boxer engine powering the rear wheels of a squished-Beetle-shaped sportscar. 'Twas good.

In 1973, Lotus was doing pretty well for itself. The Seven's whole 2500 sales had carried it through producing a number of other models, and a few were even in production concurrently - a lineup! Exciting stuff! Well, that and an F1 team so successful its Wikipedia page features the section "Domination in the 60s and '70s". The exciting opportunity to move upmarket, with bigger models with AC and automatics and all that bougie shit, pushed them to move away from the image of scruffy old kit car makers, ceding the Seven's production to the last two dealers that sold it, main one being Caterham Cars.

The 911 headed into the 80s old enough to drive, and Porsche's plans considered it at the end of the line, with staff already mourning it. But then the yankee at his third week as CEO saw those plans (which to Germans are basically scripture), said "to hell with that" and extended that line off the chart. Literally. He went to the lead engineer's office and physically took a marker at a development chart. They all secretly liked that.

Still, it was clear the game was changing - intercoolers, all wheel drive, active suspension... how hard could the 911 layout go if it didn't stick to its simple air-cooled roots? Well, Porsche resolved to find out by filling it with the cusp of automotive advancements and then some. And I do mean filling - a chassis that didn't even need space for a radiator was suddenly tasked with storing it, two turbos, two intercoolers, and a good half dozen oil pumps.

Yeah good luck with that, buddy. Oh, and materials? The body was kevlar, the frame was aluminium, the floor was Nomex (ever even heard of Nomex???), the wheels were magnesium and the spokes were hollow!!!! You could blow into the spokes!!! And don't get me started on the technology! Variable height, an all-wheel-drive system that distributed torque at will, electronics galore... As you may be able to guess, development was… complex.

At one point a test driver was doing 180km/h (112mph) to go get the car un-on-fire-d, and that's just one of the plenty horror stories. Hell, work started in 1983 to create a car for Group B and took so long that when said rally series died in 1986, production was just starting. Not that development would stop at the start of production, either - the first cars just got updated when the owners took them in for their service. (Can't blame them, I fix wording in weeks-old posts...) But however long it took, the resulting Porsche 959 answered the originating question "How hard can this chassis go?" with a resounding "Hard and then some".

It was comfortable and refined enough to be driven every day, but so capable it extended the limits of the concept of production car. Put it this way: it reached car people's favorite round number, 100km/h (to yankee doodles, 60mph) in 3.6 seconds. The second fastest production car did so in 4.6. That's one second of margin in a race that ends in five. Oh, and if you want to put it another way: the 959 was the first production car to ever surpass 300km/h, let alone come 1 shy of the mythical 200mph (322km/h).

Meanwhile, the handful of chaps at Caterham was still producing the Caterham Seven. It's the Lotus Seven (specifically the third revision, from 1968), but I guess in '83 the engine changed. We were saying?

They couldn't sell the 959 stateside for lack of crash test data, and America's ban on importing foreign cars under 25 years of age had no exception. That is, until Bill Gates wanted a 959 so bad he spent 13 years getting an exception passed. That's how hot this car is.

And yet, this record-breaking, boundary-pushing, master-of-all-trades hypercar sits atop the 80s automotive landscape engulfed in shadow. But how? Why? Because it failed to contend with the greatest automotive headache: humans. It was planted, practical, reliable, predictable - docile, domesticated, amicable. Perfect. But these are not meant to be cars, they're meant to be posters. And you don't get posters of what is perfect, but of what excites you. And what excites us is the visceral, the raw, the uncompromising - the wild, the feral, the dangerous. And, of course, reaching round numbers. What excites us is a lot more like the first production car to break 200mph, the Ferrari F40.

Remember how the 959 was being developed for Group B racing and then the series died? Well, Ferrari got screwed over too, with the 288 GTO Evoluzione they were developing (seen here to the right of the base 288 GTO) suddenly having no reason to be.

The lead engineer then asked Enzo Ferrari to let him turn that weekend project (literally, they couldn't spend work week time on it) into a road car to celebrate their 40 years. Enzo, nearing the end of his days, thought "Ah, what the hell, let's leave with a bang", so they set off to build what would become the anti-959. Not anti as in response, but as in antithesis. Where the 959 was an attempt to modernize the noisy, unrefined, old-school 911 -to make a supercar "tested for everyday usability to the most strenuous standards", by Porsche's words- the F40 was a reaction to, per Ferrari's words, "customers saying Ferraris were becoming too plush and comfortable": "nothing but sheer performance. Not a laboratory for the future, as the 959 is. Not Star Wars."

To exemplify: left is the 959 - note the leather and electric seats, right is the F40, note the string you open the door with.

The F40 was noisy, crashy, torrid, and the turbo lag painstakingly smoothed out in the 959 here kicked you in the back like a locked door. It would rip your head off the moment it sensed you didn't know what you were doing. But it was more exciting - to look at, to hear, to drive. And that's what won people over - including the buyers, which were near four times as many as Porsche's despite the price tag being double.

Had the 959 lost then? Well, not quite. Enter the 959 S. Doing away with much of the 959's luxuries, like adjustable suspension, electric windows, AC, central locking, and even backsea- wait, the 959 had BACKSEATS???? Holy FUCK why does no one talk about that??? Take the family on a trip to 300kphville! I was saying. They schlapped some bigger turbos on too and power went from 444hp right past the F40's 470hp to a healthy 508, that propelled it over what any roadgoing F40 ever managed at 211mph, or 339km/h. Presumably for bragging rights.

And I want to stress, these were titans clashing here. This was leagues beyond what other production cars could even comprehend. Again, the 959 hit 100km/h in 3.6 seconds. The F40 held a record by taking less than 16 seconds to go from 0 to 160km/h(100mph) and back to 0. This was witnessing superhumans fighting through the clouds.

And then in 1992, the two chaps that 'developed' Caterhams (i.e. banged new ones together in the shed) told the chap they worked for "Hey, let's make one that's really barebones and fast", rang up their ol' mate (and ex-F1 racer) Jonathan Palmer to ask to lend a hand, and bought some of the 250hp engine that powered the Vauxhall (British for Opel) Cavalier GSi in the British Touring Car Championship.

Thus, the Caterham Seven Jonathan Palmer Evolution - a raw, uncomfortable, uncompromising beast that went fast as all fuck. Now, if you don't know Sevens you may think "Ah, so just like the F40, what with its handcrank windows and the string to open the doorlatch and all". And to illustrate how far off that is: in the Seven the windows were sown on and you latched the door yourself with a press button.

And that's the standard version which had windows and doors. The JPE didn't.

The JPE had a carbon tub you were meant to call a seat, the controls, a rev counter and a tach that didn't even bother reading until 30mph, and fuck you. And this one is not even as barebones as the JPE got: this one is painted.

So while the F40 went from 1,250kg (2760lb) to 1370kg (3020lb) when adjusted to comply with US regulations and the 959 went from 1450kg (3200lb) to the lightweight S version's 1350kg (2975lb), the Seven JPE weighed 1170. As in 1170lb. 530kg. Read that again if you need to, but it had about half the power of those two and considerably less than half the car to move. And so, in January 1993, this thing -this '50s coffin with a Vauxhall engine banged together by one guy in a shed- took the Guinness World Record for fastest car to 100km/h with a time of 3.46 seconds - and the 0-160km/h-0 record with 13.1 seconds. Close your eyes and picture that.

Yet the Seven JPE is hardly known to anyone but the most hardcore of enthusiasts, and owned by barely four dozens of 'em. So did it, perhaps, ultimately lose? Not at all. In fact, none of these cars did.

Every 959 cost Porsche twice what they sold it for, but the project proved the 911's layout could stand the test of time, and its development gave Porsche technologies it gradually infused into the 911 keeping it relevant, competitive, and most importantly alive to this day.

And I think we can safely say that when Enzo Ferrari died in 1988, a year after the F40's launch, his wish to leave with a bang was perfectly fulfilled - so much so that the F40 is commonly regarded as the peak of his legacy.

And the JPE was simply the greatest Seven ever - the most raw, thrilling, pure automotive experience the streets had ever witnessed. If driving a fast car was like biking down a hill, the Seven JPE was skydiving. Hell, it was the cover car of éX-Driver, an anime about a team using old-school sportscars to rescue haywire autonomous vehicles!

Not that culturally relevant but MAN was it cool as a kid. I need to hang those damn posters one of these days. I was saying.

These are three success stories in three radically different ways. Because, as much as I've made this post all about the numbers, sometimes it's not about that. Sometimes it's about making a show, leaving a mark, being spectacular. Sometimes it's about pushing yourself to achievements you can take pride and inspiration from. Sometimes it's simply about having fun seeing just how far you can really go. Sometimes it's about deciding what you want to be and make a new favorite version of yourself, that is the best it can be at what you care the most about. And for some that may result in less popularity or success or impact or legacy than others, but those are just some of the things you can work towards. It can be okay to just work towards having a blast. Hell, those madmen at Caterham used to stay after work to build themselves track cars, race them the next day and put ‘em back in the workshop after racing them, and the company survived to this day. Because, yes, they're still around - and their new lineup topper gets to 100 in 2.8. Windshield still optional. Well, at least there's headrests now. And a wider version, for the concrete possibility that you physically don't fit.

Never change, Caterham, because you certainly never have.

Links in blue are posts of mine explaining the words in question - if you liked this post, you might like those!

[dopesuitkingdom]

The new model year isn’t even on dealer lots yet and Toyota is already offering massive discounts for its sole EV in the U.S. Toyota is offering several leasing and financing deals for the 2024 bZ4X electric crossover. Even though the car is not yet on dealer lots, Toyota is offering up to $10,000 off. Toyota hasn’t said a thing about the upcoming 2025 bZ4X electric crossover. The car isn’t even on dealer lots yet–although it should get there by the end of this year–but the Japanese automaker is already offering a huge discount and very attractive leasing and financing options for the yet-to-be-released EV. Let’s get that discount out of the way first. Through January 6, the 2025 Toyota bZ4X is available with a $10,000 lease cash discount in many regions, such as Denver, Boston, New York, Los Angeles, Portland and San Francisco. In other areas like the Gulf States and Cincinnati, the lease cash discount drops to $7,500, according to auto intelligence website CarsDirect, which is obviously less but still sizeable. Expand article logo Continue reading There’s more, though. When leasing, Toyota is offering rates equivalent to 0% (a money factor of 0.00001), which sure sounds like the automaker is keen on getting these EVs off dealer lots even before they get there from the factory.

Read To Continue

[hotsnews903528]

The new model year isn’t even on dealer lots yet and Toyota is already offering massive discounts for its sole EV in the U.S. Toyota is offering several leasing and financing deals for the 2024 bZ4X electric crossover. Even though the car is not yet on dealer lots, Toyota is offering up to $10,000 off. Toyota hasn’t said a thing about the upcoming 2025 bZ4X electric crossover. The car isn’t even on dealer lots yet–although it should get there by the end of this year–but the Japanese automaker is already offering a huge discount and very attractive leasing and financing options for the yet-to-be-released EV. Let’s get that discount out of the way first. Through January 6, the 2025 Toyota bZ4X is available with a $10,000 lease cash discount in many regions, such as Denver, Boston, New York, Los Angeles, Portland and San Francisco. In other areas like the Gulf States and Cincinnati, the lease cash discount drops to $7,500, according to auto intelligence website CarsDirect, which is obviously less but still sizeable. Expand article logo Continue reading There’s more, though. When leasing, Toyota is offering rates equivalent to 0% (a money factor of 0.00001), which sure sounds like the automaker is keen on getting these EVs off dealer lots even before they get there from the factory.

Read To Continue

[luckyrebelarcade]

The new model year isn’t even on dealer lots yet and Toyota is already offering massive discounts for its sole EV in the U.S. Toyota is offering several leasing and financing deals for the 2024 bZ4X electric crossover. Even though the car is not yet on dealer lots, Toyota is offering up to $10,000 off. Toyota hasn’t said a thing about the upcoming 2025 bZ4X electric crossover. The car isn’t even on dealer lots yet–although it should get there by the end of this year–but the Japanese automaker is already offering a huge discount and very attractive leasing and financing options for the yet-to-be-released EV. Let’s get that discount out of the way first. Through January 6, the 2025 Toyota bZ4X is available with a $10,000 lease cash discount in many regions, such as Denver, Boston, New York, Los Angeles, Portland and San Francisco. In other areas like the Gulf States and Cincinnati, the lease cash discount drops to $7,500, according to auto intelligence website CarsDirect, which is obviously less but still sizeable. Expand article logo Continue reading There’s more, though. When leasing, Toyota is offering rates equivalent to 0% (a money factor of 0.00001), which sure sounds like the automaker is keen on getting these EVs off dealer lots even before they get there from the factory.

Read To Continue

[ayuvyayurveda]

How To Get The Best Deals On Used Cars

The used car market in Delhi NCR is a thriving industry, with a wide variety of vehicles available for purchase. From luxury cars to budget-friendly options, there is something for everyone.

Types of Used Cars

Delhi NCR has a wide variety of used cars available for purchase, ranging from luxury cars to budget-friendly options. Luxury cars such as Mercedes, BMW, Audi, and Jaguar are popular choices for those looking for a high-end vehicle. For those on a budget, there are plenty of options such as Maruti Suzuki, Hyundai, and Honda. These cars are reliable and affordable, making them a great choice for those looking for an economical option. Additionally, there are also a variety of vintage cars available in Delhi NCR, such as the classic Volkswagen Beetle or the iconic Fiat 500.

Advantages and Disadvantages

One of the main advantages of buying used cars in Delhi NCR is the cost savings. Used cars are typically much cheaper than their new counterparts, making them a great option for those on a budget. Additionally, used cars often come with lower insurance premiums and registration fees. Furthermore, used cars are often more reliable than new cars, as they have already been broken in and tested.

However, there are also some disadvantages to buying a used car in Delhi NCR. Used cars may not come with a warranty, meaning that any repairs or maintenance will be the responsibility of the buyer. Additionally, used cars may have hidden issues that can be difficult to detect without a thorough inspection. Finally, used cars may not have the latest safety features or technology, which can be important considerations when purchasing a vehicle.

Buy New Cars

Purchasing a new car is an exciting experience that can be both thrilling and intimidating. There are many factors to consider when making this decision, such as the type of car, the cost, and the features. 

Advantages of Buying a New Car

One of the main advantages of buying a new car is that it is likely to be more reliable than a used car. New cars are built with the latest technology and safety features, which can provide peace of mind when driving. Additionally, new cars come with a manufacturer’s warranty, which can cover any repairs or maintenance that may be needed in the first few years of ownership. Furthermore, new cars are often more fuel-efficient than older models, which can save money on gas over time.

Another benefit of buying a new car is that it can be customized to fit the buyer’s needs and preferences. Many car manufacturers offer a wide range of options and features that can be added to a new car, such as upgraded audio systems, heated seats, and advanced safety features. This allows buyers to choose a car that is tailored to their lifestyle and budget.

Potential Drawbacks of Buying a New Car

One potential drawback of buying a new car is the cost. New cars are typically more expensive than used cars, and buyers may need to take out a loan in order to purchase one. Additionally, buyers may need to pay for additional features or upgrades, which can add to the overall cost. Furthermore, new cars tend to depreciate quickly in value, so buyers may not get as much money back when they sell or trade in their cars.

Another potential drawback is that new cars may require more maintenance than used cars. New cars may need to be serviced more frequently in order to keep them running properly, which can add to the overall cost of ownership. Additionally, buyers may need to purchase additional parts or accessories in order to keep their car running smoothly.

Conclusion

In conclusion, when you decide to buy new cars, it can be an exciting experience that offers many advantages, such as reliability, customization options, and fuel efficiency. However, there are also potential drawbacks to consider, such as the cost and additional maintenance requirements. Ultimately, it is important for buyers to weigh the pros and cons before making a decision in order to find the best option for their needs and budget.

[hotnewsus805030]

The new model year isn’t even on dealer lots yet and Toyota is already offering massive discounts for its sole EV in the U.S. Toyota is offering several leasing and financing deals for the 2024 bZ4X electric crossover. Even though the car is not yet on dealer lots, Toyota is offering up to $10,000 off. Toyota hasn’t said a thing about the upcoming 2025 bZ4X electric crossover. The car isn’t even on dealer lots yet–although it should get there by the end of this year–but the Japanese automaker is already offering a huge discount and very attractive leasing and financing options for the yet-to-be-released EV. Let’s get that discount out of the way first. Through January 6, the 2025 Toyota bZ4X is available with a $10,000 lease cash discount in many regions, such as Denver, Boston, New York, Los Angeles, Portland and San Francisco. In other areas like the Gulf States and Cincinnati, the lease cash discount drops to $7,500, according to auto intelligence website CarsDirect, which is obviously less but still sizeable. Expand article logo Continue reading There’s more, though. When leasing, Toyota is offering rates equivalent to 0% (a money factor of 0.00001), which sure sounds like the automaker is keen on getting these EVs off dealer lots even before they get there from the factory.

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The new model year isn’t even on dealer lots yet and Toyota is already offering massive discounts for its sole EV in the U.S. Toyota is offering several leasing and financing deals for the 2024 bZ4X electric crossover. Even though the car is not yet on dealer lots, Toyota is offering up to $10,000 off. Toyota hasn’t said a thing about the upcoming 2025 bZ4X electric crossover. The car isn’t even on dealer lots yet–although it should get there by the end of this year–but the Japanese automaker is already offering a huge discount and very attractive leasing and financing options for the yet-to-be-released EV. Let’s get that discount out of the way first. Through January 6, the 2025 Toyota bZ4X is available with a $10,000 lease cash discount in many regions, such as Denver, Boston, New York, Los Angeles, Portland and San Francisco. In other areas like the Gulf States and Cincinnati, the lease cash discount drops to $7,500, according to auto intelligence website CarsDirect, which is obviously less but still sizeable. Expand article logo Continue reading There’s more, though. When leasing, Toyota is offering rates equivalent to 0% (a money factor of 0.00001), which sure sounds like the automaker is keen on getting these EVs off dealer lots even before they get there from the factory.

Read To Continue

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The new model year isn’t even on dealer lots yet and Toyota is already offering massive discounts for its sole EV in the U.S. Toyota is offering several leasing and financing deals for the 2024 bZ4X electric crossover. Even though the car is not yet on dealer lots, Toyota is offering up to $10,000 off. Toyota hasn’t said a thing about the upcoming 2025 bZ4X electric crossover. The car isn’t even on dealer lots yet–although it should get there by the end of this year–but the Japanese automaker is already offering a huge discount and very attractive leasing and financing options for the yet-to-be-released EV. Let’s get that discount out of the way first. Through January 6, the 2025 Toyota bZ4X is available with a $10,000 lease cash discount in many regions, such as Denver, Boston, New York, Los Angeles, Portland and San Francisco. In other areas like the Gulf States and Cincinnati, the lease cash discount drops to $7,500, according to auto intelligence website CarsDirect, which is obviously less but still sizeable. Expand article logo Continue reading There’s more, though. When leasing, Toyota is offering rates equivalent to 0% (a money factor of 0.00001), which sure sounds like the automaker is keen on getting these EVs off dealer lots even before they get there from the factory.

Read To Continue