Since I Have Not Seen Anybody Share Information On This Here, Please Pay Attention To The Philippines

This is a summary of college only using two pictures; expensive as hell.

That’s my Sociology “book”. In fact what it is is a piece of paper with codes written on it to allow me to access an electronic version of a book. I was told by my professor that I could not buy any other paperback version, or use another code, so I was left with no option other than buying a piece of paper for over $200. Best part about all this is my professor wrote the books; there’s something hilariously sadistic about that. So I pretty much doled out $200 for a current edition of an online textbook that is no different than an older, paperback edition of the same book for $5; yeah, I checked. My mistake for listening to my professor.

This is why we download. 

 Alternatives to buying overpriced textbooks

Textbooknova 

Reddit

Bookboon 

Textbookrevolution 

GaTech Math Textbooks

Ebookee 

Freebookspot 

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Oerconsortium 

Project Gutenberg

erasing trans women from stonewall sure is something

PUSHING BOUNDARIES

Percy Jackson/ Annabeth Chase 25k words; complete

To think– none of this would have happened the way it did if Sally Jackson had been taught to knock. (OR) a swimmers au where they are friends with benefits forced to fake date but it's all really a trojan horse because it's a chance for Percy and Annabeth to face some of their mommy and daddy issues fr <3

t user lizzie jockpercabeth has returned xo

CHAPTER FIVE OF WHAT IF IS OUT!

 and it’s a happy one this time!

the annabeth project

rated t | 12k | canonverse time travel au | for @bipercabeth

Summary: Annabeth is lost in time. Percy finds his way to her, but not without a few familiar faces helping him along the way.

══════════════════

Time kneels to no one, but Percy will take his chances.

Annabeth disappeared five months, two weeks, six days, and seventeen hours ago. Percy scoured the earth for her, even biting back the sharp tang of grief in his throat when he asked Nico if she was in the Underworld. Relief mixed with dread when Nico told him no.

She wasn’t anywhere.

Turns out Percy’s been asking the wrong question all this time. Anywhere is a bit of a misnomer. Anywhen is more accurate. And more of a pain in his ass.

http://therapyforblackgirls.com 

reblog to save a life

stay down

An AU in which Grover is on the Argo II as protector instead of Hedge, because I say so. He and Percy get to have an actual conversation about the aftereffects of Tartarus + that godawful conversation with Jason.

Percy is tired. That’s what he tells Grover when he asks how he’s doing (and Grover asks often).

I’m just tired.

Saving the world for the fifth summer in a row gets tiring, you know? I’m gonna go nap. Wake me up when I’m on watch.

It’s nothing. Just haven’t been able to sleep. Since the world is ending again.

Everyone else has stopped asking.

It’s not for lack of caring. Percy’s loyalty outweighs his self-deprecation; he can’t think lowly enough of the people around him to claim they don’t care about him. He just makes it easier for them to forget. Indifference is more comfortable than concern. How can Percy explain himself to Jason, Piper, and Leo, who don’t know him; to Frank and Hazel, who admire him; or to Annabeth and Grover, who love him? He tried with Jason after the incident with the poison, and the guy gave him that hard-pressed grimace—lips pulled tight and to the side—before dismissing the topic entirely. Jason paused, perhaps to think, and Percy heard rejection in the silence. It was just like when he set fire to the band room at Goode: Percy was standing with his face sooty and his skin torn apart by debris, looking out at the horror and disbelief on the faces of his peers. So he did with Jason what he did then. He ran.

Maybe Jason truly thought nothing of it. The guy was raised by wolves, after all. He doesn’t seem like the type to sit in his emotions. Maybe the conversation took a turn down a road Jason can’t walk either; maybe he’s a runner, just like Percy.

Tired gets everyone else off his back. Annabeth narrows her eyes with that analytical stare that used to break Percy, but even she can be fooled. That stare worked when his problems were smaller—the weight of the world instead of the weight of himself. After a lifetime of shouldering impossible burdens, the thing that makes his legs shake is getting out of bed in the morning. Just the weight of sixteen years, of five straight summers being a hero. If he lives to see a time where the world doesn’t need a hero—when it doesn’t need Percy—who will he be? Childhood turned to dust alongside the first monster he plunged Riptide into. What story will he write when it comes time to put down the sword and pick up the pen?

PLEASE HEED THE TAGS BEFORE READING 

read on AO3

I don’t think I’ve seen an answer to the question of how close or far apart the things happening today (”send her back”, detention centers etc) are to the nazis quite as good or thorough as this answer on quora

Don’t Call It A Comeback • mob au 

Annabeth sits at her desk that belonged to her mother before her and admires the intricate carvings that mark its edges. She smiles to herself, having missed the feeling of sitting behind it, reminded of the power that seems to emanate from its mahogany. Her hands are flat on its cool surface, as if asking it to forgive her for her absence. As she reacquaints herself with it, there is a gentle rap on the door, and she looks up to see Charles poke his head in.

“Hey boss,” he says with a sweet smile. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” she says, leaning back in her chair.

“Saying hi to an old friend, I see,” he says with his usual charming smile.

“I missed her so much,” she says in a whiny tone. “I mean, my desk in Elysium is great, but this one… it’s special.”

Charles laughs as he sits down. “Well, once you two are done having your moment, can we talk about what you would like to do today?”

Annabeth takes a deep breath, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands in her lap. “This desk surely isn’t the only one who has been missing me these past few years.”

“Certainly not.”

“I figure I should… make the rounds. Say hi. Remind people who I am.”

“And why they stay in line,” Charles adds with a look of pride.

“Precisely.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Where would you like to start?”

continue on ao3

Riptide Chapter 3

The street outside the bookstore is quieter than usual. It’s just about closing time and Percy is shelving all the books who were moved from their nooks through the course of the day. Sally is cleaning the coffee counter, snacking on the last cookie in the display case and humming a song that Percy can’t quite place.

“Where have I heard that before?” he asks, rounding the corner of the nearest bookcase.

Sally smiles without looking up from what she’s doing. “It was one of your dad’s favorites. Every time it was on the radio, he’d turn it all the way up and sing along. Badly.”  

Percy laughs. “So I got my singing voice from him?”  

Sally looks up then. “Of course. I mean, I sing like an angel so it couldn’t be me.”  

They continue their customary movements around the store, making sure all the tables are clean, the books are put away, and the oven is off, before heading to the back office.

It’s a small, unimpressive space with just enough room for two people, three if necessary. There is a small wooden desk that Percy remembers helping his dad build, still being able to note the by P+P carved into one of its legs. He runs his hand over it as he sits down, feeling comforted by its graininess against his skin.  

Sally puts on her reading glasses and opens up her ledger, making notes of the days profits. “How we lookin?” Percy asks.

Sally sighs contentedly and leans back in her chair. “To be honest, we’re killing it.”  

Percy smiles and lifts his hand for a high-five which Sally returns gleefully. “I knew it. Big book chains eat your heart out.”

As she sits back, she begins to simply watch Percy, who squirms under her gaze.

“Don’t do that thing,” he says.

“What thing?” she asks, playing dumb.

“That thing where you watch me and use your mom witchcraft to just like, get everything out of me.”

She smiles and shrugs. “Can’t help it, just comes naturally.”

keep reading on ao3