#Macgyver wc

[cupids-stimboards]

pride month special - send me a character and ill make a board based off my headcanons character: macgyver (warrior cats - art by niftysenpai) answer: gay

📿 🍏 🐱 / 🧃 x 🌊 / 🐱 🦋 🌺

[artaintfartwarriors]

Have you done bellaleaf or leafstar or macgyver ??

[shallowbreeze]

Macgyver

Macgyver is a slender, thick-furred, black-and-white tom

[lemnnshark]

"Harveymoon is a white tom with a broad back, thick fur, and green eyes."

"Macgyver is a slender, thick-furred, black and white tom."

[vadorah]

Back when I was early in the fandom, one of the first AU's I ever came up with is Harveymoon and Macgyver from SkyClan being Princess's second litter.

Always thought it would be cute that Princess's sons always made their way to the Clans.

[night-patrol]

[google-drawings-warriors]

I love this guy! He's like a side character Firestar.

[bonefall]

Thoughts on Wasp? I like the idea of cats joining that turn out that the Clans aren’t great… but also it feels… weird? Like it seems like another “lazy cat bad” on some levels. I don’t mind him not joining the Clans but these “outsider learns they’re not fit for the Clans” things always give me a pause from the Erins. Also interested in how you would handle him!

Moonkitti's video on him is really well worded, if you haven't seen it yet. I do think he's different from the way that other books tend to portray outsiders in that they are saying that he was driven away by the xenophobia of the Clans... but.

They still make him extremely disinterested in Clan life while he's in ThunderClan. I think that was a massive blunder to write, if the thing they're trying to say is "XENOPHOBIA PREVENTS OTHERWISE ENTHUSIASTIC MIGRATION"

It would have hit harder if it was Wafflepaw who tried to run to RiverClan, got assaulted, and then didn't want to be a Clan cat anymore.

Wafflepaw WANTS to be a warrior. Wasp did not. It reads more like Wasp getting hate crime'd was a "last straw" more than THE reason why he won't stay.

That's where you're getting that vibe they're saying "lazy cat bad," imo. It's a bit different from usual, but it still seems like the narrative is saying that Wasp really didn't belong here anyway.

(no, Nightheart's moment where he looks at the camera and says "he could have been fine!" doesn't change that they showed, in their text, with the actions they wrote, that Wasp was not enjoying being part of the Clans anyway. If that was their intended thesis, their writing was sloppy.)

It feels especially weird that Bee didn't go with Frostpaw. Bee was the character with a lot more setup and that strange dream. A lot of people were confusing Bee and Wasp when the book first came out and I don't blame them.

Most importantly, you can't talk about Wasp without also mentioning one of THE worst lines I think has ever been written into a Warrior Cats book. The part where tigerHeartstar says, "Those cats who just committed a hate crime were perfectly good people before the evil dictator took over. If we kill the evil dictator, I'm sure they'll CHANGE BACK"

I'm still REELING. Fuck you MEAAAN "CHANGE BACK????" CHANGE BACK? LIKE BEING A BIGOT IS UNCOMFORTABLE SHOES???

CHANGE BACK... me bringing my evil dollars up to the villain store and exchanging it for racism coins... change back...

So when I get around to it, I'm going to evaluate if Wasp is even actually necessary in the form he's in. BB is already about xenophobia and bigotry and the harm it does. Frostpaw has no shortage of examples to witness what Thistle Law is, and what it does to those excluded from Clan Culture.

When I first made my Family Tree for RiverClan, I actually ended up making Splashstar's MOM, Havenpelt, an ex-rogue. I think seeing him order a hate crime against his own mother would be a LOT more impactful here, actually.

What Frostpaw DOES need is allies and friends. I'm already starting by expanding her little "DND Party," a word I'm using to affectionately refer to some cats who will be following her home from her pilgrimage to the Park. 99% chance that Nightheart is going to become a permanent member of this party, joining RiverClan at the end of ASC. Waffle will be another. She'll probably also pick up a Tribe cat.

Wasp will be on this party, but I won't decide what happens to them until I see what that last book has in store. Who knows, he might come back (though I hope not, run as far away from these ghouls as possible Wasp!!)

[harveymooon]

hello my fellow harveymoon lover! I was wondering if you had any designs / design ideas for his buddy, Macgyver!! (I'm very sleepy but I think that's how his name is spelled.) the two of them have been my fav characters since I read the skyclan books and I'm always delighted to see other people who enjoy them!! 🙂‍↕️💚

finals are OVER and i am BACK

[exocynraku]

[shellswoop]

Things I want in this arc/ next arc

-A SkyClan medicine cat apprentice

-Crowstar (With Breezepelt or Nightcloud deputy)

-Moonpaw becomes Tree's apprentice and is a mediator (OR JUST A MEDIATOR APPRENTICE PROTAG)

-Kestrelflight or Harestar dies.

-Hawkwing dies and gets replaced with Macgyver. Will never happen, but PLEASE

-Hawkwing x Plumwillow?

-Fringewhisker x Spireclaw babies and one is named Skykit.

-Moonpaw x Starlingpaw??

[hoe4hotchner]

Drawer | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Gn!reader CW: Fluff. Haley is still alive in this one… but they're divorced and she's not mentioned, so don't worry about her. WC: 0.8k

This is part of #Teddy-ber hosted by @angellsell

           The kitchen was quiet, save for the soft clinking of plates as you set the table. The sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room, making everything feel cozy and safe. You glanced over at the small drawer beside the fridge, the one neither of you opened often, yet always ended up filling with random things. You smiled, shaking your head. The infamous junk drawer - every home had one, but yours and Aaron's had its own kind of charm.

           It all started off simple, as these things often do. A place for the odd rubber band, a spare battery, maybe a pen or two. But over time, it grew, much like your relationship with him, becoming a repository for memories, a snapshot of your life together in the most ordinary and yet extraordinary way.

           You wandered over to the drawer, giving in to the curiosity, and pulled it open. The first thing that caught your eye was a tiny, half-used notepad. You chuckled, remembering how Aaron had tried to create a system and used it to make a grocery list - once. His tidy handwriting took up the first half of the page: Apples, cereal, milk, eggs. The essentials. Then came your scribbles, messier but full of character: Chocolate, wine, ice cream. It was a small, unspoken dance between the two of you, his practicality meeting your indulgence. He’d teased you about your sweet tooth but always made sure to grab a bar of your favorite chocolate when he went to the store.

           Underneath the notepad was an old, crinkled paperclip. Nothing special at first glance, but you knew better. This particular clip had been straightened and twisted into some sort of abstract shape during one of Aaron’s late-night phone calls with the director. He had a habit of fiddling with things when he was deep in thought or conversation, his mind constantly running through strategies, cases, and plans. The paperclip had against all odds survived that night and ended up in the drawer, tossed in with the rest of the forgotten oddities.

           There was a small collection of mismatched pens, each one with a different origin story. One from the BAU, with the FBI logo fading from years of use. Another, much nicer, one with Rossi’s name engraved on the side - a Christmas gift that had mysteriously disappeared from Aaron’s desk only to reappear here. You smiled, remembering how Rossi had teased Aaron about it, accusing him of misplacing gifts as though they were case files.

           Digging a little deeper, you found a crumpled-up ticket stub. It was from a movie you and Aaron had seen early on in your relationship, on one of your rare date nights - some action thriller that neither of you had really been paying attention to. You had been too busy watching him try to relax and stop worrying about work. His arm curled around your shoulders as the tension slowly left his body. It was one of those evenings where he let himself enjoy life, and in that dark theater, you’d felt closer to him than ever. The ticket had ended up in his pocket, and then, eventually, in the drawer.

           You picked up an old keychain, shaped like a miniature Swiss Army knife. It was a gag gift from Morgan after a particularly tough case where Aaron somehow had managed to improvise his way out of a tricky situation (or so you'd been told) with nothing but a pen and a piece of string. Morgan had joked about Aaron being the new MacGyver, and the keychain had become a running joke between the two - until it, too, found its way into the drawer, no longer needed but still a significant memory.

           Near the back, half-buried under a mess of receipts and old to-do lists, you found something that made your heart swell - a small, child-sized sock. You chuckled softly, knowing exactly whose it was. Jack had spent the night a few weeks ago, and somehow, one of his socks had gone missing. You’d found it in the laundry and tossed it in the drawer, intending to return it but never getting around to it. The little sock was a reminder of the nights when Jack slept over, filling the house with his laughter and questions. Aaron was always softer when Jack was around, his face lighting up in ways that were rare for the composed man you knew.

           As you looked over the contents of the drawer, you realized that it was more than just a place for random objects. It was a reflection of your life with Aaron - the little moments that made up your days together, the way your personalities meshed in the most unexpected ways. His neatness contrasted with your occasional chaos, his seriousness balanced by your lightheartedness. And in the middle of it all, this drawer - a quiet testament to the life you were building together, one forgotten pen and grocery list at a time.

           You smiled, closing the drawer with a soft click, knowing that someday it would fill up even more. But for now, it was a comforting, endearing mess - much like love itself.

[vinnieswife]

Hi :D, I'm sorry to bother you, but I just found your page and I love it!, so I was thinking of a story of Macgyver.

When the Reader is recruited in Phoenix, and she is as intelligent as Mac, and have similar skills. So Mac is amazed and he starts to feel attracted to her because he have never met a person that understands him.

Idk if I'm asking to much, if so, I'm SO sorry. :c

Btw english isn't my first language I'm from Argentina so I'm sorry if my grammar sucks :'(

OMG I LOVE THIS, it’s so short tho, i’m from Spain no worries amor <3

Angus Macgyver x fem!reader

wc: 357

warnings: none

At Phoenix headquarters, the air is charged with anticipation. You've been recruited for a crucial mission, and as you meticulously review the documents, MacGyver, a seasoned maverick from the agency, enters the room with his characteristic calm yet alert demeanor. “who’s this matilda?”, she smiled looking at him “y/n she will help us with a couple of missions her occurrences match yours so having both on our team will be great��

Your gazes meet, and he, with his ability to read people, immediately recognizes the spark of ingenuity in your eyes. Intrigued, as matilda leaves you two, he approaches you, and you begin exchanging ideas about the upcoming mission. Amid improvised schemes and creative solutions, the spark of a unique connection ignites.

The more they work together, Mac noticed surprising similarities between them: creativity in problem-solving, the ability to improvise, and a passion for exciting challenges.

As time passed, the connection between you and Mac strengthened with each mission successfully tackled together. On a quiet night after a triumphant operation, as you shared experiences in the break room, he couldn't help but express his growing feelings.

“you know y/n, every time we work together, I realize how incredibly compatible we are. Not just professionally, but also... personally."

You, with a knowing smile, nodded, feeling the same connection. “Seriously, have you turned your feelings into a compatibility test between us?" you laughed, his face grew red. “I wouldn’t word it like that but…yeah”

As you shared more moments outside of missions, Mac gathered the courage to take the next step.

"And what if she rejects me, Jack? It'll be catastrophic," Mac was so stressed, but he needed to give it a try.

"Come on, Mac, you know her. We both know she's going to say yes. Be a man and get the girl."

Mac nodded, approaching you after the mission. Your hair was disheveled, and your clothes were dirty, but to him, you were the most polished girl in the world.

"Hey," you looked up. "Oh, hi," you could see he was nervous. "Are you okay?" you asked. "Oh, yeah, don't worry. Um, can I talk to you for a moment?" you nodded and Mac glanced at Jack, who smiled and gave him a thumbs-up.

"How about we celebrate something more than paperwork after this? How about going to dinner with me?" he said, smiling while scratching the back of his neck.

You, surprised but pleased, enthusiastically accepted the invitation.

Suddenly, a shout was heard, "I told you!" and right after that, Jack was hugging both of you.

"Took you long enough huh.”

That night, amid laughter and confidences, you and MacGyver discovered that your connection wasn't just professional; it extended to a romance that flourished with time and shared experiences.

[boolger]

Dying laughter

Macgyver 2016 ✨ Jack Dalton x Angus Macgyver ✨ mature, 18+ ✨ wc: 1.2k ish

Tags: vampires au, main character death (kinda? Technically not, but sssh), vampire hunter, blood, lying, angst no happy ending. Open ended. Lmk if more needs to be tagged. Listen I’m just freestyling what vampires are, let me have this silly lil one shot.

MDNI. Not here, not with my blog. I’ll block you. MDNI.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

When Murdoc had said the words out loud, he had apparently been able to read the confusion on Jack’s face; his grin growing even wider than before, one of his usual manic laughs overtaking him. He had been laughing delightfully at others’ misery as usual.

“Oh - oh, you don’t know?” He had asked, “oh Angus, you haven’t told him? You didn’t tell him?”

It had been a mixture of taunting and delight, laughter following as Murdoc seemingly lived out one of his dreams - much to Jack's confusion. Even worse, Mac had looked pale, afraid… ashamed.

Jack hadn’t been able to speak then, unable to let questions and demands of answers drip from his tongue. Confusion, betrayal, distrust overwhelmed his veins as Murdoc enjoyed his moment, the young man with the dirty blonde hair quiet.

Now, as Jack stood over him, the gun in his hand, everything he could remember was told by his father; it was a matter of duty, to everyone else - to the human race.

Jack had taken so many lives in the years he had lived. Grown up with his father’s honor to continue and defend; made a name for himself, as a soldier, a hunter, an agent. He had blood that would stain his hands, no, stain his life, until he stepped into the afterlife.

If he hadn’t done as expected, as instructed, as he should - what would have happened then?

No, though blood stained him, human, vampire, demon blood alike, it was still his duty.

His father wouldn’t even have hesitated. He would have shot the man beneath him with the silver bullets in his gun. It was currently aimed, safety off; it was merely a question of pulling the trigger, helping the human race.

It was what he had been taught to do, ever since being a child. The moment he could hold a gun, his father had made sure he knew how to shoot it. How to hit, how to kill those that weren’t human beings, merely imitating. In order to stop them from taking over.

“Jack,” Mac whispered, voice shaking, “please don’t.”

Jack had to do it. He had to, not only for everyone else but for himself. To reclaim his honor, to prove he wasn’t blind.

Murdoc’s laughter was wet, coughs in between them now and again. He was on the floor, a couple of steps from them, blood seeping from the gunshots that Jack had blessed his body with.

“Tell me it’s not true, Mac,” Jack’s voice was shaking slightly, “tell me it’s not true.”

Mac was beneath him, still in the chair that Murdoc had chained him to, which was now tipped back over, looking up at Jack with those big blue eyes. Just as beautiful as the day Jack met him.

“Jack,” he answered, voice still nothing but a whisper, “please don’t do this.”

“Tell me you’re not one of them!” His voice was bordering on yelling now, his tone demanding. Desperate to be sure that no, it was all a lie; that Murdoc had lied, that the one who Jack had been in love with for the last 6 years of his life, wasn’t a vampire.

As if the teeth which Murdoc had forced him to unsheath shouldn’t have been proof. They were filed down, no more dangerous than Jack’s own, but Mac shouldn’t have retractable teeth. Sharp or not.

It was like his mind was a wild ocean, during a storm; ruining every memory on its way, breaking every ounce of trust that Jack had laid in his friend. Falling in love with Angus Macgyver had been such a simple feat. It had been like a seed, planted inside him, growing with the years, slowly, oh so slowly getting ready to bloom. All those times Mac had stepped back, that he had shied away and declined him - had it been because of this? Was the love not a flower, but a mere weed?

Was he not human?

Murdoc laughed again, bleeding out, yet having the time of his life. Mac’s nostrils barely moved, as if to attempt to block out the scent.

“A carrier!” Murdoc screamed in absolute delight, “you’ve fallen in love with a carrier!”

A carrier.

Nothing was like Jack had been told it was his entire life. Vampires weren’t supposed to be like this, weren't supposed to be like Mac - they… weren’t supposed to be human. Yet here Mac was, beneath him, just like he had been the last many years. Human-like.

Perfect.

“Mac,” his own voice was shaking more than before and he hated how he felt tears form in his eyes, “tell me it’s not true. Tell me.”

Mac was silent beneath him. Staring up at him with a sad, pleading expression- unable to lie.

Jack had to kill him. His father would be ashamed if he didn’t, it was his duty as a hunter. Killing a carrier, would mean that a vampire - a monster - that Mac - that… he wouldn’t be able to carry a full blood vampire child. Making sure the vampire kind would survive, even if they had no humans around to drink from.

He had to.

“TELL ME!”

Murdoc laughter was weaker now. More wet.

There were tears collecting in those pretty eyelashes of his. He looked up at Jack, so vulnerable, no anger from being found out. Merely sadness - but from what? From being found out? From knowing he had to die now? From being forced to tell the truth? Did Mac even fear death? Did he fear the truth more than the afterlife?

He wanted Mac to tell him it wasn’t real - that it was another lie of Murdoc, that it was a ploy. To make them unsure, to separate and kill them. But Murdoc was bleeding out, laughing as he went.

“It’s true.” Mac’s bottom lip shook after the whisper and tears rolled down into his hair that was splayed around his head on the floor, like a blonde halo. As if he was an angel, an immortal being created by god. Not this.

Jack’s hand was shaking.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” he continued, “I wanted to tell you.”

Another, small, dying laughter from Murdoc.

“Why didn’t you?” He found himself asking something he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He wanted to scream at Mac that it wasn’t fair, that he had loved him for so many years - that he wasn’t supposed to be here, beneath him, admitting to be a vampire. Then Jack could have shot him earlier, before he became enthralled with him. With his personality, his mind, his hands, his eyes - with how he would know everything yet be so clueless about others.

Why hadn’t Mac told him, so that Jack wouldn’t be here, the declaration of love dying in his mind, watching the man beneath him?

“Every time I wanted to,” Mac was still shaking a little, “I felt greedy, egotistical- I … I wanted you to love me, just a little more.”

He wasn’t human, Jack tried to remind himself, he was never human. He steadied his hand with the gun a little. He wasn’t human, merely taking the shell of one. Vile creatures, he was always told, unable to love or care about anyone.

“I just wanted another minute with you,” Mac continued, “just to love you another minute - wanted to hear your laughter one more time.”

Not shooting Mac would make him weak, it would be against everything he had grown up with. It would be against the laws of the hunters, against what the government wanted - it would be against everything that he did for human beings.

He was not human. Even if being together with Mac had been the only thing getting Jack through life for years. Even if Mac sometimes felt more human than Jack himself did.

“You’re not human.” He wasn’t sure if he said it to Mac or to himself.

Did it even matter?

His grip on the gun tightened.

[authorangelita]

For the Fanfic meme:

1. If you’re an author, how many WIPs do you currently have? (Be honest!)

5. What’s a crackship you love?

17. Describe a fic that is still in the ‘ideas’ stage.

:-)

Thank you for the questions! ❤️

1. If you’re an author, how many WIPs do you currently have? (Be honest!). I counted 19 in my WIPs folder for MacGyver.  And 12 in my WC WIPs folder.  I've had an idea for the next story in the Neal Hughes verse, but I haven't written anything down yet.  I need to rewatch some episodes. 

5. What’s a crackship you love? I had to look up the definition of crackship to see if I had one.  I don't think I do.  I don't have a ship at the moment, and my last one was Sterek, which is huge but was not canon, so that might count if you squint.

17. Describe a fic that is still in the ‘ideas’ stage. Hughes family Thanksgiving that gets interrupted by something.  I don't know what.  Might be some bad guys bust in and take the family hostage, might be that Neal gets lured away somehow, might be that Michael is followed there by someone after him because of his US Marshal job.  I just have this image of everyone sitting around the table, saying what they're thankful for, and then they get interrupted.