#reciprocal function

[horrorwebs]

oh, but what a lonely world it is for reciprocal functions

[ajspeller]

Calculus – Difference Quotient on a Reciprocal Function Difference Quotient on a Reciprocal Function In this tutorial students learn how to use the difference quotient.

[callmeprinceali-blog]

Reciprocal Function | Part Two | Dyron

In which Dylan asks Aaron out. Behind the jump because it’s a long one.

Denial Inconclusive Evaluations: 

When Aaron, first calculated the fact that he was in love with his bestmalefriend, the first place to go was denial, because it just wasn’t in his plan. And sure the plan was always shifting, altering and adapting itself to Aaron’s life, but the idea that ‘Falling in Love with Dylan’ was apart of it, just sounded more like a miscalculation than anything else. Which often was the case whenever a conclusion came to him in the middle of the night, stirring him from his sleep and making him scribble down a messy evaluation on whatever paper he had lying around at the time. And even then it wouldn’t be until morning; when Aaron had gone over his work again, that he would really let himself either linger on it or toss his new evaluation on his life aside as mere nonsense. When Aaron had gone over his words and his diagrams of the human heart; which had him almost certain his heart wasn’t working the same way as everyone else’s, at least not when it decided to do silly things like speed up, and yes, miss a beat when he was around his best friend lately, he decided that although his evaluation seemed sketchy at best, he would dedicate a few days to analyzing it. Which was exactly what he ended up doing, as he threw himself into a lockdown for a few days, pulled out his spare whiteboard, started going over the data, and drawing up new possible outcomes for his life that now also factored in the idea that he was and quite possibly always had been in love with Dylan Stewart. 

Conclusion: I’ve gone over my data for a total of three whole days now. And after factoring in the fact on how I feel about Dylan in a general sense, to how I feel when he’s with Bella, to how I feel when he’s wearing different outfits (red being the preferable color), I have come to the conclusion that there is a quite a big possibility that I (Aaron Weaver), have started showing early symptoms of what someone might deem as being in ‘love’. I have started to notice just how much time I spend time with him in one sitting without finding myself either incredibly bored or feeling inclined to correct him. Which, based on the calculations I made three summers ago on what I would need to find in a partner to deem her ‘dateable’, would once again prove that this evaluation of mine might just be plausible. My conclusion is that now, after three days of research and analyzation, that I need to set aside a few more days for this particular evaluation before I’m able to come to my final decision on the matter currently at hand. 

Anger Boiling point: 

There was this little thing called a Pundit square, that Aaron had drawn three hundred and three times since his last conclusion. He had drawn in Dylan’s features in some and his own in others, and there were calculations and numbers which analyzed the scale of both of them in all of them too. Thinking back on it now, as Aaron slipped out of his work attire and settled for white v neck and a grey cardigan to wear instead, was that if he wanted to blame anything on his unusual case of frustration last week he could blame it on the three hundred and three Pundit squares that now rested at the bottom of his recycling bin. What had ended up angering Aaron the most about the squares, was that no matter how many times he drew in the picture of Dylan, the science was exactly the same. Aaron Weaver thought Dylan Stewart was attractive; at least judging by the way he seemed to think about him at night, no matter what the Golden ratio said about it. Not that it wasn’t unusual for science and mathematics to disagree, but Aaron had still found himself throwing his whiteboard across his bedroom a total of 7.5 times; because one time his mother had walked in and he had been forced to launch forward and catch the board before it fell to the ground and made the count rise to an even 8. 

Conclusion: Once again signs point to the conclusion that I (Aaron Weaver) am in love with my best friend. Note for next observation: Don’t break the whiteboard. 

Bargaining Calm Negotiations: 

Thinking back on it now, as Aaron pulled on a pair of chinos and slipped on his favorite pair of vans, he had never really sat in church and asked God for anything before last week. Not even for a good grade. But after his ‘Pundit Square’ conclusion, he had gone up to his local Pastor and asked him if God was willing to make deals with boys who had been an exceptionally good Christians, at least according to the rule book, would he make a deal with Aaron? His pastor had of course raised his brow at his unusual and unorthodox behavior that day, but Aaron had stood his ground and demanded the Pastor connect him with God immediately, because they needed to have an important discussion that him as a simple minded commoner would not be able to fully grasp. In the end, Aaron had spent the duration of his Sunday conversing with what Science might say was just air or a mix of carbon dioxide and oxygen particles, but Aaron would say was both that and so much more. Aaron had asked, and quite reasonably too, if it was at all possible to perhaps take away his feelings for his best friend, so he could focus on his work instead. His answer, at least judging by the fact his feelings remained the same the next day was a solid no. His conclusion was then scribbled down into his field journal and read out loud to himself a total of thirteen times. 

Conclusion: Despite what I would deem quite a reasonable request for someone as powerful as God to offer me; a worthy disciple for sure, I’ve been answered with a solid no on the subject that I still believe is lacking some serious evidence and proof, but regardless I must accept as my next course of action and fully commit to it. Therefore, Bella Royce (former friend) will have to go. I’m going to have to ‘win’ over Dylan Stewart. First course of action: I’m going to have to kiss him. Note: Look up kissing again and make sure you’ve perfected it. Further notes: Learn how to do that thing with your tongue. 

Depression Mild Signs Of Woe: 

Looking at his watch, Aaron decided it was best not to crease his clothes and therefore it was best not to lie down on top of his bed as he waited for his best friend to arrive. Instead he pulled out his copy of ‘A Brief History of Time’ which he enjoyed highlighting all errors and rewriting in his own formulas and thought about his first kiss with Dylan and how it had quite possibly thrown him; Aaron Joseph Weaver into a stage of ‘Melancholy’. The kiss itself had been amazing, because it had felt like gravity itself was pulling him towards his best friend and everyone else be damned because he wasn’t going to fight it. It was what had come next that had taken him by surprise. Yes, taken Aaron Weave, by surprise. It was the idea that possibly, Dylan hadn’t thought the same way, that he was going to choose Bella instead. Which didn’t make sense. At least according to Aaron, who had drawn up about fifty conclusions that pointed he was the far better ‘bet’ than Bella was. That Dylan’s chances of success increased with having him by his aside rather than having her by his side. Yet, yet, Dylan seemed adamant that he needed to think, that he needed to work out his feelings, that he was still in love with Bella. And Aaron; in the simplest sense of the meaning, had been upset by it. His field journal hadn’t even got an entry at that point, because he had spent the whole day in his work attire on his bed, making up an excuse that he wasn’t feeling the best and avoiding the internet and his cellphone. 

Conclusion (in thought process): I suppose this is what it feels like to be without Dylan now. I suppose this is what it’s like to love someone so much you would ‘die’ without them.

Acceptance A Conclusive Evaluation:

Being stirred from his memory, Aaron turned towards the door where Dylan was standing and observed his best friend. And there it was again; the heart thing. Standing up, Aaron’s own smile began to mirror his best friend’s; big, wide, white, happy. “Hi.” He swayed back and forth on the balls of his feet, as he held himself back from walking over and letting his hand grip the fabric of Dylan’s shirt and hold him close. Just. “I --” He stopped himself when he realized, that perhaps Dylan hadn’t been asking, but mealy stating, so with an added nod (his own way of answering that he too understood the ‘connection’ that people had been talking about) he allowed Dylan to continue without interruption. When his eyes adverted down to his best friend’s hands, that didn’t just offer a simple trinket, but offered a relationship, one that until a few days ago Aaron hadn’t even wanted, he started to cry. Well okay, not cry, cry, but his eyes were wet and there was a lump the size of a golf ball in his throat and he was just too distracted to consider the science of it all, just that this sign of affection made his heart ache. “Dyl--” Once again he found himself being cut off, but he didn’t even care. He was barely able to form a comprehensible sentence anyway. Dylan just had a way of making him speechless. Stepping forward, after he was certain that no more words were going to slip out of Dylan’s mouth, Aaron finally rested his hand on his best friend’s chest, his fingers tightening around the fabric of his shirt, as he pushed his forehead against Dylan’s. Their breaths intertwined and it was familiar, yet not and all Aaron wanted to do was pull himself impossibly closer and really remember the scent of his best friend. Letting out a laugh, Aaron finally choke out his reply between a sob that he hadn’t realized he had been holding in till now. “Y-yes.” It was simple really and perhaps predictable, but he didn’t care. And then, he kissed him. 

Conclusion: After much debate, I (Aaron Weaver; future self-graduating physicist) have come to a solid conclusion, that I am indeed in love with Dylan Stewart. And the above statement should never be argued, by either party, or by anyone involved or uninvolved, as I pride myself in being thorough with all my evaluations. And I definitely did not overlook this one either. All tests were extensive and all tests proved the same conclusion over and over again. Further more, there is no need to extend any more time on this particular evaluation and I will now be focusing all efforts on my new ‘Black Hole’ theory and my experiment on ‘How One Pleases One’s Boyfriend Exceptionally Well.’  

[dylanstewarts]

Reciprocal Function | Dyron

In which Dylan asks Aaron out. Behind the jump because it's a long one.

When he closed his eyes, he saw in vivid detail his own narrative interpretation of what would happen — and each time it ended in relative happiness. Typically, this would have been enough to egg him on, convince him to get out of bed and go over to Aaron’s, because it was rare for his mind’s eye to see a situation go well. He was a realist, he knew, but a cynic, and he always anticipated to worst would come of things. But he knew what Aaron would say, he knew that Aaron would say yes, and yet this still wasn’t enough to make him realize he was doing the right thing. This is what he wanted, after all, what he wanted more than anything else. Last night, when they — him and Aaron and Rory and Kaylee — were watching Firefly, it had just seemed natural. Even if Rory had insisted on sitting between them, Dylan caught himself looking over at Aaron and, on one or two occasions, he could have sworn that he had just missed Aaron looking over, too. The butterflies in his stomach didn’t subside when they were together. It all felt new, and organic, like anything was possible, like everything was whole again. 

He wanted to. More than anything he wanted to ask Aaron on a date, ask Aaron to be with him. He wanted to promise to Aaron that everything would be okay, that he would always be there for him, that he would protect him, and comfort him, and love him unconditionally for the rest of his life. A part of him wanted to propose to Aaron but that seemed like a stretch. Too fast, too soon. He wasn’t ready for that, wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for that, and besides he didn’t know how legal that was in Virginia, and he didn’t want to move to Canada just to be with his best friend. No, this would have to do. In his prayer-like position, he nodded his head slightly and sat up. That was all the encouragement he needed. He wanted to be with Aaron, nothing else mattered: the doubt, the fear, it was all second to how he felt with Aaron, and nothing was going to stop him.

Walking to his car took what felt like forever, each step taking him further away from his final destination, lowering his resolve. When he finally touched the handle to the car door, he felt like he was going to be sick, but forced himself into the driver’s seat, inserted his keys, turned on the ignition, and let out a quiet groan. His head snapped back against the cushioned headrest behind him, and he closed his eyes, and he replayed his imaginary scene in his head. Aaron still hugged him. Aaron still said yes. Aaron still loved him. Pulling the car into reverse, he made the trip to his best friend’s house in total silence, beyond the slightly worrisome sound of his car screeching as he turned. 

As far as Dylan knew, Aaron would be home by now, and probably wouldn’t have anybody else over. It was a Thursday, which meant that Aaron would have work in the morning, and Dylan would have school tomorrow. Knowing Aaron, they would just have a quick conversation before he went off to bed, and Dylan would be too embarrassed to ask to stay a little bit longer, or spend the night and sleep on the floor, but would go upstairs, say hi to Aaron’s mom — feeling guilty the whole time, considering how long both their parents assumed they were together — and then leave. He would take the quiet, solitary drive back home, collapse on to his bed until he, too, managed to fall asleep, but his thoughts and his dreams would keep him distracted for much of the night. This was all well and good, but he wanted more, he needed more, and this felt like the logical first step to that point.

He pulled into Aaron’s driveway, the porch light on — maybe Aaron was expecting him — and he turned off the car, sticking his keys into his pocket. He got out and stretched. The chilly air whipped across his face and served to cool him down, because suddenly he realized he was sweating. He couldn’t decide if it was nerves or the heat of the suit, but he chose to remain still for a few moments, hoping he would stop sweating. He stuck his hands into the suit jacket’s pocket, fingers gently running over what he had gotten for Aaron. Originally, it had been placed in a box, but the feel of the velvet unnerved him, so instead Dylan had decided to just keep it without wrapping. Warm to the touch. He ran a hand along its length and smiled weakly as he picked out the engravings, and this pressed him forward, closer to the door, and without hesitation he knocked. 

Aaron’s mother answered the door, and they exchanged pleasantries. She questioned the suit, her mouth thinning into a straight line, but Dylan deftly stretched the truth, saying he had just gotten back from a school function (his face only twitched twice, but he managed to cover it up with a smile), and she didn’t dig deeper than that. He stepped inside, removed his shoes, and hurried towards Aaron’s room, heart aflutter, brain a mess.

The door was closed, and for a few moments Dylan considered that maybe Aaron hadn’t heard him knock, and he smiled vaguely, thinking he could use this to his advantage. This gave him a few moments to breathe, to clear his head, to work up the conviction. He pressed his hand to the door knob and the small smile he had formed grew wider than that, it became an expression of pure joy. Turning the handle, he quickly stepped into Aaron’s room, and closed the door behind him. 

Now was his time.

“Aaron,” he said with his wide smile, letting out a nervous laugh, and he faltered slightly, breaking the eye contact and looking down at his feet. His hand replaced itself into the pocket of his jacket, grasping the trinkets tightly between his fingers and thumb, and he was fairly certain his face was turning beet red. But none of that mattered, now, because he was about to have what he wanted. He needed to pull it together, he needed to stay strong.

So he looked up, a breath catching in his throat, and took a long, hard look at his best friend. His confidante. His lover. “Aaron, I don’t... I don’t know about you, but everybody keeps saying that... that we have this... connection. Chemistry.” He laughed weakly, running his free hand through his hair. He was nervous, Aaron could probably tell that, but he sort of hoped Aaron was nervous, too. 

He took a few steps further into the room, and continued speaking. “And... and lately, I’ve given it some thought. And I agree with them. I think we... I think you...” He looked away, but this time it was only for a moment and he found his courage again. “I think you are... the most amazing man in the world. You’re my best friend. You’re my other half. I can’t imagine living without you, and... and...” He nodded a few times. 

His hand closed in a fist around the gift, and he removed it from his pocket. In a few small steps, he closed the gap between them, standing probably closer than was modest or allowable, but he could feel Aaron’s body heat, he could smell Aaron’s breath, and it was intoxicating and invigorating, and he wanted to kiss him right then and there, but he had to finish his speech, or he would never ask the question. “And I love you. And I know you love me.” As he spoke, he took Aaron’s hand, placing the trinket in his palm. It was a set of dog tags, engraved with the words ‘I love you’ on one, and ‘I know’ on the other, the Star Wars reference too good to pass up, the silver metal was matte, but adorned with a nintendo layout at the base (sort of like this). Dylan pulled his own hand away, and chewed for a moment on his cheek, before he finished. “And I would be... I would be really, really happy if... I would love it if you wanted to be my boyfriend. And if you wanted to go see Salmon Fishing in the Yemen with me, because Ewan McGregor's in it, and...” His voice trailed off. "Everybody likes Ewan McGregor."

Suddenly, everything seemed to disappear again, and all he could see was Aaron, but he couldn’t look directly at Aaron any longer. This was where it could all go wrong, this is where the narrative broke off. It was no longer in Dylan’s control, it was up to Aaron, and more situations than just the one seemed to be running themselves in fast-motion through his mind, but he did his best to appear strong, to appear happy, because if nothing else, he wanted Aaron to think he was happy.