#sirius black birthday

[bluualiens]

Some Marauders fanart and Sirius Black art I did for his birthday (forgot to post here) 🤭💙

[starlicca]

Have you said happy birthday to Sirius yet? If not, say it with me: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PADFOOT!! We love u<3"

[waltzreprise]

#WolfstarComfortfest2024

Day 32: Sirius Birthday!! 🎉🎉🎉

I hope you like it ❤️

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

Happy Birthday, Padfoot!! 🐾

We love you, deerly ❤️🤗

[inv1s1bleghost1345]

[daydreamingqueen1]

Touché - Wolfstar

happy biiirthdaay to youuu my babyboy sirius <3 you are simply in love with moony

Pairing: Wolfstar (Sirius x Remus)

Warnings: itty bitty bit of angst, sirius realizing he's in love with... I don't even need to say it.

Word count: 1k

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Contrary to popular belief, Sirius can stay still. It is only logical that the tumult of his spirit manifests in the uproar his presence brings to every room. Quietness, au contraire, he does not do often. Not at his own volition at least. But he's capable and even inclined to do it under the right circumstances.

The reward has to be great to get him to make the whirlwind of his being pause and revel in the silence.

He's been caughting himself slipping into it more than usual.

No one points it out, it's him that realizes the perturbation or rather un-perturbation he's experiencing.

There's a common denominator to this state, Sirius recognizes, and that is not a what but a who.

Remus is who.

At first Sirius theorizes that the boy’s calmness might be contagious, thus making him fall into it by mere mirroring. The hypothesis proves itself wrong when sitting next to equally quiet people such as Peter or Dorcas provokes him to be twice as loud in overcompensation.

Okay, so it's not that.

He then tries being silent on his own, just to see if it's possible. The answer comes quickly enough: It is not.

Unless petrified or muzzled, Sirius cannot stand a minute of muted solitude.

The ringing of silence fills his ears and, although it is deafening, it is not the noise that drives him crazy. No, that noise does not come from outside, quite the opposite actually. It is his internal flow of thought that does not let him rest, an infinite narration of insubstantial material.

He used to dread talking to his mother so much. She had a habit of making you feel small with her incessant chastises and snide comments. She could spend hours recounting the biggest decorum trifles that one couldn't care less about, repeating protocol rules over and over again. A list that never seemed to come to an end. The kind of things you listen to because you have no other choice, no matter how affected by the insults or bored of the rules you are.

It turns out that his mother has sneaked into his brain, for is her voice Sirius hears. The difference is that she no longer attacks with only the shames she has of him— that he is used to enduring— but the Walpurga in his head unveils a sharper knife; the anxieties that only he knows about.

Simply put, his head is not a nice place.

Quietude means amplifying the noise that is his mind, hearing it unfiltered by the cacophony of the outside makes his skin crawl.

If the former statement is true then why has he ended up like he is now? Resting perched in a library chair, perfectly placid, at least twice a week for the past months.

Again, Remus being there is the only thing these situations have in common.

It puzzles him. Sirius doesn't like not knowing. The saying is curiosity killed the cat but dogs are just as nosy, with the additional fact of having no sense of self preservation.

His mind zones out in Remus' presence, it turns quiet, not even the static of silence bothers him.

Sirius's eyes wander aimlessly through the boy in front of him with an empty head. He's reading, as usual, but it's not an assigned reading, Sirius can tell because his whole posture is different.

When he reads something for pleasure, as he is now, Remus' hand holds his impossibly heavy chin, resting his arm over the table in the most uncomfortable way possible, limbs and elbows jumbled in such awkward angles that it's surprising how many hours he can spend without moving.

Unconsciously his eyes trace every detail of his face, not to remember them— that is a long time carved in his thalamus for dreaming material— but as a kind of automatic comforting exercise. Counting the amount of scars, their paths, the valleys of features that they set across, everything.

Remus is quiet but he's not boring, his calmness is more of an aura than an actual fact, Sirius knows firsthand just how not calm the boy can get when mad.

Sirius decides to let it slide for now, put a pin on it and move on. He'll just keep enjoying the surprising respite from his mind.

“Creep.”

The mumble words snap him out of his lethargy, “Hmm?”

“I said creep,” a slight smirk forms on the corner of Remus’ lips, gaze not even glancing up from his book, “You're gonna burn a hole through my skull if you keep staring.”

Sirius doesn't have the sense to feel shame, he simply shrugs, “How do you know if you haven't even looked up for an hour?”

The smirk grows almost imperceptibly while long fingers turn a page, “How do you know I haven't looked up in an hour if you weren't staring?”

He huffs amused, “Touché.”

They don't say anything else and Remus goes back to his reading.

Sirius doesn't take his eyes off.

The only sounds are their breathing and the eventual turning of a page.

His mind continues to be quiet.

And then it hits him like a stunning spell.

For Sirius, his own silence is as loud as the ruckus of crashing head-on into a wall.

Oh, no.

Remus. Remus is why. Not something involving Remus. Just Remus.

Remus makes his head quiet.

He makes his heart loud.

The sound of a thick book closing pulls him out of his panicked realization, stopping him abruptly like a fencing foil making contact to the center of his chest.

Remus looks up, sharp hazel eyes colliding directly with his. “Are you ready to talk now, Sirius?”

Sirius gulps.

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headcanon that the black brothers took fencing lessons. GO AHEAD AND TELL ME IM WRONG. SEE? YOU CANT.

this is a bit silly but I just wanted to write sm for his bday.

my masterlist

[dinahime-blog]

I can't stop thinking about Sirius spending his birthday in Azkaban after James and Lilly's death

[sillylittlejesterman]

Making a Cake

I FORGOT TO POST THIS FOR SIRIUS' BIRTHDAY BUT HERE IT IS (its also on ao3) Just a little silly story that was written very quickly for my favorite wet dog homosexual man's birthday. I love him.

“Uh Remus? I don’t think it’s supposed to look like that,” Peter said, eyeing the gloopy, sludge-like thing in the baking dish. 

“Is–... Is it moving?” James asked. The three boys standing over the tray with what was supposed to be Sirius’ birthday cake in the center. They all startled away when a bubble in the dish popped, making a loud noise. Remus plopped the tray down on the stove top and took his red and white oven mitts off, slapping them on the table while frowning. 

“This makes no sense. We did everything, didn’t we?” He pushed a bunch of empty pans and dirty rags around until he found the badly scribbled out recipe on a now batter-stained piece of parchment. 

“You know, it would probably help if we could actually read the recipe,” James pointed out, snatching the parchment out of Remus’ hands and dangling it in front of his face. Remus frowned in response. “This whole thing is in French. Can’t you find it in English or something?” James continued. 

“Maybe we should just ask Regulus,” Peter mumbled, not really planning for anyone to hear him. He knew Sirius and Regulus’ relationship was complicated to say the least, but he was the only other person that Peter knew who spoke French. 

“No! No it’s fine, it’s not that hard to understand!” 

“Remus you keep saying that but look at the cake– I don’t even know if we can even call it a cake anymore,” James’ voice trailed off as he covered his mouth with his hand, standing to stare at the last six attempts at the cake - each looked worse than the last. 

“French is a romance language with Latin roots and I know latin.” Remus insisted. 

“Latin and French are not the same language, Remus!” 

“They have the same roots!” 

“Guys, the cake is moving,” Peter interrupted, pointing to where the cake had started to form a rather large bubble. The three boys leaned in close to examine it, and like it had before, the cake popped, startling the three and spraying runny batter all over their faces. 

Remus, whose face was contorted by disgust and cake batter, stood shocked, staring at the cake tin before wiping his eyes and flung the batter to the ground with a frustrated groan. 

“Okay, I think it’s time to find a different cake,” James said, wiping his hands on one of the many dirty towels in the kitchen.

“No, his birthday is tomorrow! This is the only recipe we have and we can’t give him a fucking cookie for his birthday” 

“But Moony we’ve been at this for hours! I’m hungry and tired,” Peter whined. 

Remus took a breath and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.“Fine! Fine, I’ll just do it myself,” He grumbled, growing increasingly frustrated with this recipe. “Why does Sirius have to have such posh taste all the time?” Remus grumbled under his breath, snatching the recipe from James’ hands and reading it over again, muttering to himself. 

James and Peter shared a look before sighing, knowing they weren’t exactly excused from the kitchen just yet. Remus would slave over this cake for days if it meant making Sirius’ birthday a happy one, so James and Peter had to stay too. 

—

Frost covered the window of the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory. Almost every year the first snow fell on Sirius' birthday, and Remus knew this because every year he was up. He tucked himself away in the reading nook in the window, the light from his wand illuminating the page he was reading. But when a small beeping noise was heard from his bed he sprang up and quickly turned it off before digging to find the parchment wrapped box he had been hiding for months. 

“Psst, hey,” Remus whispered as he made his way over to Sirius’ bed, careful to avoid the floorboard that creaked so loud it woke Peter up. He tiptoed and drew back the curtain to his bed, snickering at the sight he found. 

Sirius was splayed out and curled in his sheets, wearing an oversized and threadbare Beatles shirt that Remus had given him for his twelfth birthday. It was too big on him then, and still hung just below his red and gold boxers. A copy of the Rolling Stone with Bowie on the cover was open over his face, and the slight sound of his snores  made Remus chuckle, his lips curling into a fond smile.

“Hey, wake up, idiot.” He said, smacking Sirius’ foot. Sirius made a sound and stirred, causing the magazine to roll off of his face and onto the floor with a thump.

“Fuck, I’m awake,” He grumbled, sitting up on his elbows and smiling when he noticed Remus. “You never make it to midnight” Remus teased, crawling onto the mattress and letting the curtains fall closed as he settled across from Sirius. “Oh shut up,” he groaned again, rubbing his eyes as he reached onto the floor to grab the magazine,placing it on the bedside table. 

Remus fidgeted with a small package in his hands as he smiled at the other boy, admiring the way his grey-blue eyes shone in the dim yellow light of the lamp that hung from the canopy above the bed. Sirius smiled back, pushing his hair out of his face while sitting up properly. He scooted slightly closer to Remus.

“Happy birthday,” Remus smiled, finally breaking the comfortable silence the two of them sat in. 

He placed the package on the bed, sliding it towards Sirius.

Sirius’ brows knit together in confusion as he slid his gaze between the gift and the boy opposite him.

“This is different,” Sirius said, starting to unwrap the brown parchment that Remus had shabbily used to conceal the box. 

“Well yeah, cause– this year is different.” 

It was a tradition they’d started their very first year at Hogwarts. Or really, Remus started it. He’d stayed up, wanting to be the first person to wish Sirius a “happy birthday” - he’d had too much energy, and the second the clock turned past twelve, Remus pounced on his friend. Sirius was of course startled at first, but the second he spotted Remus, looking like an easily excited puppy, he couldn’t be mad. Remus gave him a David Bowie vinyl that year along with the giant Beatles shirt and Sirius still had them, still considered them the best gifts he’d ever received. Remus had a weird thing with gifts. He was usually dreadful at gift-giving, but when it came to Sirius he somehow nailed it every time.

“Why, cause I snogged you on Halloween?” Sirius smirked, always playing a joke. It was true, Remus and Sirius had snogged on Halloween. Both of them consumed a little too much fire whiskey that night, leading to a long, painstaking game of spin-the-bottle. Sirius had finally had enough after three rounds, and dragged Remus away to the broom closet. Remus remembered it vividly. The feeling of his heart beating fast in his chest and the taste of cigarettes, whiskey and strawberries on Sirius’ lips– 

“Because you asked me to be your boyfriend on Halloween.” 

That was true as well. After hiding in the broom closet for what felt like hours, Sirius finally dragged Remus upstairs where the kissing continued in a more horizontal position. Alone with only the muffled sound of drunk teenagers downstairs, it became much more intimate as they laid together on the bed, curtains drawn and lips pressed together. Their kissing was less hungry, less filled with need. Remus had pulled away for just a moment when Sirius said it. 

“Remus, I want to be with you,” He’d whispered, his hand tangling in Remus’ hair, gently playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. His voice was quiet, like he was whispering a secret and all Remus thought to do was kiss him in response. 

Sirius turned red, his pale complexion never failing to betray when he felt embarrassed or flustered. Remus found it quite cute.

“Okay, yeah but–” 

“Stop arguing and just open your present, okay?”

Remus cut Sirius off and pushed the half-opened package against his chest, scooting closer to Sirius to get a better look, despite the lack of space on the bed.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at him and laughed. 

“Okay, okay, pushy” He teased, carefully taking the package and unwrapping the brown parchment that was crumpled around it. Inside was a simple black velvet box only about the size of his palm, and Sirius looked back up at Remus. 

“What is this?” He said, holding back a smile. 

“Just open it,” Remus urged, his cheeks turning red. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, a ball of excitement and nerves sat in his throat as he waited for Sirius to open the box. 

Inside the little velvet box was a silver plated ring, with shimmering moonstone embedded in the center, engraved crescent moons sitting curled around either side of the stone. Remus saw it in a shop back home and it reminded him too much of Sirius not to buy it. 

Sirius stared at the ring for a long while, which didn’t at all help Remus’ nerves. 

“It’s not a proposal ring or anything. Sorry if it looks like that,” Remus finally blurted out

He gently placed the box on his covers, smiling at Remus, his heart fluttering excitedly in his chest.

 “I love it,” He whispered, reaching for Remus’ hands, pulling him close - “I love it,” He said again, gently pressing their lips together. Remus melted into the kiss, sighing softly, relieved that Sirius liked his gift. 

—

“Surprise!” The sound of party poppers was loud and confetti sprayed everywhere as Sirius entered the common room. It was all lavishly decorated, or as lavishly as a group of teens could get it.

The common room was full of Gryffindors, though most noticeably James and Peter who stood in the middle of the room, holding a large cake. Or at least it looked like it was supposed to be a cake. The layers were wobbly and the icing was everywhere and it looked as though half the candles on top of it were trying to run away down its side. For whatever reason, James and Peter had thought it would be a phenomenal idea to adorn the cake with sparklers as well. 

Sirius found himself silently thankful for Lily standing close by, seemingly ready with a spell to take care of things, in case it caught fire.

With a struggle, James and Peter put down the cake, fetching a slice for Sirius before placing two sparklers and a candle in it. Looking at the slice, Sirius wasn’t even sure the cake was edible. Still, he took the slice. 

“Oi, what’s that?” James asked, motioning to the small silver ring on Sirius’ finger. James had spotted it when the ring caught the light from the sparklers, causing the stone to shimmer, showing off the elegant moon designed carved into it in the process. 

Sirius glanced at the ring with fondness, his eyes briefly meeting Remus’, before he turned his attention back to James. “Eh, just a little something. Back to the important stuff, hm? If this cake kills me I need to know who to hold responsible,” he joked. Remus smiled. There was nothing that made him happier than seeing Sirius so happy, surrounded by the people he loved.

[miss-morgans-lover]

Happy Birthday Sirius Black

Gay mess™

Drama queen™

Black Brother

Traitor

Padfoot

Uncle Padfoot

Pads

[aurisartblog]

Sirius‘ birthday

Sirius didn't know where all this time went, but it was yet another birthday of his. From the snoring sounds surrounding him, he assumed that he was the first one to be awake. He wanted to be excited for his birthday, but in him was just a big void. Usually, he would hide in Reggie's room and whisper stories about their futures to each other until they had to face real life again.

Today, he wasn't able to do that. His brother hated him for leaving and Sirius didn't know if he could ever fix what he's done to him.

He felt a weight next to him on the mattress and before he knew what's happening, James' head was on his shoulder and his arms around his torso. Remus was the next one to join them. He took Sirius' hands in his and gently rubbed soothing circles on them. Peter was the last one to join them and put a comforting hand on Sirius' back.

"Happy birthday", they whispered into the calmness of the early morning. 

In this moment, Sirius realised that he wasn‘t alone after all.

[novella-b]

in honour of sirius black’s birthday 🖤

outfits he would wear in my fic + his general aesthetic

[tea-blankets-andstars]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIRIUS BLACK

ICONIC FROM DAY 1

[roseburning]

Today, January 31, 2024, completes 162 since the white dwarf star Sirius B. was discovered by Alvam Graham Clark in 1862!

Congratulations, man, you're getting old!

(unfortunately, his actual birthday is November 3rd)

[letraspal]

Happy Birthday, love ⭐️❤️

[lyr-caelum]

Happy Birthday Sirius ✨🌙

🫠

[ultravioletbrit]

“birthday” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 288 words

cw: nsfw / implied sexual content

James has Regulus pressed against the bathroom door. James’ hands are on Regulus’ hips as he kisses along his jaw. Regulus’ arms are around James’ neck as he runs his fingers through his hair.  

“We should get back.” Regulus mumbles as he tilts his head to give James more access to his neck.

“Okay.” James responds but makes no attempt to stop kissing.

“Sirius is going to kill us.” Regulus says, but he tightens his grip on James’ hair and whimpers as James nibbles down his neck.

“He’s not going to kill us; he’s going to be thrilled.” James says then bites down on Regulus’ collarbone. Regulus lets out a gasp that quickly turns into a moan.

“He’s going to be thrilled we had sex in his bathroom?” Regulus pulls James’ hair, bringing him back to his mouth.

“Okay, maybe not about the sex in his bathroom, but that we got back together at his birthday party.” James says after several minutes.

“He’s going to try and take credit for it somehow… He’ll end up saying something like… ‘You’re all here today because of me’… ‘This day wouldn’t even be happening if it wasn’t for me’.” Regulus mumbles between kisses.

James pauses and pulls back slightly to gaze into Regulus’ eyes as a smile grows on his face. Regulus gives him a questioning look.

“What day?” James asks with a smirk and Regulus furrows his eyebrows for a moment until he realizes what he said, what he implied. Regulus’ eyes go wide, and James’ smirk grows. After a moment Regulus just rolls his eyes.

“Stop talking about my brother and just shut up and kiss me, Potter.” Regulus says as he grips James’ hair and brings him back in for a kiss.