*gigglesnort*
The really amusing part is the fact that the scene I plugged in was post-Azkaban R/S porn. I can't imagine how it comes up with this result unless it's going by the names used alone.
I write like
J. K. Rowling
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!
Remus buried his face against Sirius's shoulder, breathing in the scent of him, feeling both their heartrates return to normal, suddenly very aware that he was trembling. He tried to make himself stop, taking a few deep, calming breaths, but if anything, it only seemed to grow worse. Sirius's arms were around him, his chin resting on top of Remus's head.
"Are you okay, Moony?" he asked quietly.
Remus opened his mouth to say that he was fine, but without warning, the words were shoved aside by an enormous sob, and he was shaking in earnest, slipping free of his lover's body. He couldn't speak -- could barely breathe -- as sob after sob tore from his quaking chest. If it hadn't been for Sirius's arms, tight around him, holding him together, he might have shaken himself into pieces.
Sirius held him, murmuring soothing nonsense, as all the grief and rage and loneliness and heartbreak and despair of the last thirteen years -- emotions that he had tried so carefully and methodically to put away -- boiled out of him in a great tidal wave of feeling. It would never stop; he would suffocate and die here in Sirius's arms, and it didn't matter, because here, at the last, at the end of everything, Sirius was his again and forever. His heart had shrunk from lack of use, and now it was so full that surely it would burst.
He raised his face, eyes bloodshot and puffy, to gaze into Sirius's. Sirius's face was calm and tranquil, and as he watched, a lopsided half-smile curved his lips.
"Yeah," he said. "I forgot how bad the sex was, too."
Remus made a choked sound that was half a sob and half a laugh, and suddenly he couldn't stand not to be kissing that wonderful, beloved, brave mouth that could laugh in the face of fear and pain and danger. He pressed his mouth, hot and tear-salted, to Sirius's, in mindless need to taste -- to consume -- to join their hearts into one great, pulsing force that blazed like the sun.
Their bodies pressed together, and he felt Sirius's cock twitch against his hip with the first stirrings of arousal.
"Again," Remus murmured against his mouth. "I want you again, Padfoot. I never want us to stop. God! I am so in love with you --"
Sirius's only answer was to find Remus's hand with his own and wrap it around his stiffening shaft. Remus stroked and squeezed in measured rhythm, until Sirius moaned and writhed against his hand, fingers digging into Remus's back, urging him wordlessly. Faster. Harder.
"Not yet," he said softly. He could feel his own body beginning to respond to the beautiful abandon of Sirius's lust. "Oh, not yet, my own true love. I want to come with you."
He moved his hips until his cock slid alongside Sirius's, and gathered them both in his fist, giving long, steady strokes as their hips rocked together and their breathing turned to shallow gasps. He wanted to hold back -- wanted the moment to last until the end of time -- but he was so close already, and Sirius's soft cries of "Moony! Oh, God, Moony!" were quickly driving him over the edge.
"Come with me, Padfoot," he panted. "Come with me now!"
So I tried plugging in a few more samples, and almost every time, I got the same result. I did get Stephen King once (for angsty Snapefic), James Joyce once (for aSoUE crossover), and Chuck Palahniuk once (for a non-HP fic). I think this may be my new favourite toy.
I write like
J. K. Rowling
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!
Remus buried his face against Sirius's shoulder, breathing in the scent of him, feeling both their heartrates return to normal, suddenly very aware that he was trembling. He tried to make himself stop, taking a few deep, calming breaths, but if anything, it only seemed to grow worse. Sirius's arms were around him, his chin resting on top of Remus's head.
"Are you okay, Moony?" he asked quietly.
Remus opened his mouth to say that he was fine, but without warning, the words were shoved aside by an enormous sob, and he was shaking in earnest, slipping free of his lover's body. He couldn't speak -- could barely breathe -- as sob after sob tore from his quaking chest. If it hadn't been for Sirius's arms, tight around him, holding him together, he might have shaken himself into pieces.
Sirius held him, murmuring soothing nonsense, as all the grief and rage and loneliness and heartbreak and despair of the last thirteen years -- emotions that he had tried so carefully and methodically to put away -- boiled out of him in a great tidal wave of feeling. It would never stop; he would suffocate and die here in Sirius's arms, and it didn't matter, because here, at the last, at the end of everything, Sirius was his again and forever. His heart had shrunk from lack of use, and now it was so full that surely it would burst.
He raised his face, eyes bloodshot and puffy, to gaze into Sirius's. Sirius's face was calm and tranquil, and as he watched, a lopsided half-smile curved his lips.
"Yeah," he said. "I forgot how bad the sex was, too."
Remus made a choked sound that was half a sob and half a laugh, and suddenly he couldn't stand not to be kissing that wonderful, beloved, brave mouth that could laugh in the face of fear and pain and danger. He pressed his mouth, hot and tear-salted, to Sirius's, in mindless need to taste -- to consume -- to join their hearts into one great, pulsing force that blazed like the sun.
Their bodies pressed together, and he felt Sirius's cock twitch against his hip with the first stirrings of arousal.
"Again," Remus murmured against his mouth. "I want you again, Padfoot. I never want us to stop. God! I am so in love with you --"
Sirius's only answer was to find Remus's hand with his own and wrap it around his stiffening shaft. Remus stroked and squeezed in measured rhythm, until Sirius moaned and writhed against his hand, fingers digging into Remus's back, urging him wordlessly. Faster. Harder.
"Not yet," he said softly. He could feel his own body beginning to respond to the beautiful abandon of Sirius's lust. "Oh, not yet, my own true love. I want to come with you."
He moved his hips until his cock slid alongside Sirius's, and gathered them both in his fist, giving long, steady strokes as their hips rocked together and their breathing turned to shallow gasps. He wanted to hold back -- wanted the moment to last until the end of time -- but he was so close already, and Sirius's soft cries of "Moony! Oh, God, Moony!" were quickly driving him over the edge.
"Come with me, Padfoot," he panted. "Come with me now!"
So I tried plugging in a few more samples, and almost every time, I got the same result. I did get Stephen King once (for angsty Snapefic), James Joyce once (for aSoUE crossover), and Chuck Palahniuk once (for a non-HP fic). I think this may be my new favourite toy.