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any, any, old enough that he/she has to covert the date through three (or more) calendar systems to figure out his/her birthday from marlex

Highlander, Methos
Methos groaned as he opened the door to his apartment. “No.”

Richie and Joe paused, turning to face the open door. Richie’s arms were in the air as he was caught helping hang balloons and garlands. “Hey, Adam,” he commented.

“What. Are you doing in my apartment?” Methos asked.

Joe pointed at the balloons with his cane. “Happy birthday?” he tried.

Methos growled in response, glaring at the decorations. “I don’t celebrate my birthday.”

“Come on, everybody celebrates their birthday,” Richie insisted. “Even Mac celebrates, even if he doesn’t keep count.”

“I’m a bit older than Mac,” Methos pointed out. He knew the kid had no idea how old he actually was, but that he was older than Mcleod. “I have to convert the date through more than three calendars to make sure it’s right.”

Richie held his fingers up at that comment, mouthing, three calenders. Joe shrugged in response. Methos just shook his head. “Take it down,” he ordered as he left the room.

“So are you cancelling the strippers or am I?” Richie asked as soon as he thought Methos was out of hearing.

I can’t remember if Richie ever actually met Methos or knew him as Methos so I played a little fast and loose with canon here.

Supernatural, weechesters, birthday pie from cozy_coffee

Sam had never questioned why he got pie on his birthday when all the other kids always talked about birthday cake. Dean loved pie. And as far as Sam was concerned, whatever his big brother wanted was fine by him.

Dean hadn’t had a birthday cake since his fourth birthday. He could just remember standing on the stool while Mary mixed the batter and let him lick the beater when she was done. He had fuzzy memories of thick chocolate icing and smearing it across everything in sight as he tried to help frost the cake.

When it came time for Sam’s first birthday and John had taken the boys to the store to buy a cake for the younger boy, Dean had pulled his father passed the cakes. He hadn’t wanted his memories of the last homemade cake tainted by something store bought. John had looked down at the pleading eyes of his older son and allowed him to choose a pie.

Since that first birthday, the boys had always had pie (and once cookies when no pie could be found), but neither of them had ever had a birthday cake. Sam had never thought to question it since Dean seemed to love pie so much. And Dean just held tight to those precious fading memories.

MCU, any, Just how old is Steve anyway? from vanillamagick

“So how old is Capsicle this year anyway?” Tony asked as Steve and Bucky wandered into the main living room. “I mean do you two count the years you were both frozen? Or just the years Steve was frozen? Or do you ignore them all together and only count the ones you were awake?” His eyes widened. “Holy… that means you’re like what? Ten? Fifteen years older than Rogers now? That’s gotta suck.”

“Stark, shut up,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

“Come on, Cap, inquiring minds want to know,” Tony bugged him.

“No, annoying minds want to know,” Bucky replied.

“Well, yeah, that too. But…” Tony waved his hand at the table where a cake was waiting for them. “We need to know how many candles to put on the cake.”

“How about none?” Steve asked.

“I don’t… Why wouldn’t you want candles on your cake?” Tony asked in confusion.

Bucky shrugged as Steve glared in response. “When we were kids, it was enough that we got a cake for a birthday,” Bucky finally explained. “We sure weren’t going to ruin a treat with wax.”

“And to answer your question,” Steve finally admitted, “we count the years I’ve been awake. It’s too complicated any other way.”

That didn’t quite work the way I intended… Sorry.