#integritykept

@integritykept​ // starter

             there weren’t many NATs (new agents in training) on the running trails before the first class. empty and quiet were aaron’s preferences for his morning work-out. he was going easy on himself, enjoying the scenery. the ground was slightly damp, the leaves still decorated with dew drops, it was refreshing. being well into his third month at the academy he’d learned to PACE himself. there was a hostage simulation scheduled at hogan’s alley, his class would be assisting as operational support for the first-timers. he’d been through the same sim during his first week, it already felt like a LIFETIME ago.                   he’s a little winded when he catches sight of a BLONDE pony-tail just around the next corner. he’d been running this trail at this time for weeks and hadn’t seen anyone, so naturally he’s a little curious. pace is increased, a little heavier on the metaphorical gas pedal and when he rounds the corner fully the young woman has stopped, crouched down tying her shoe - he almost can’t put the BRAKES on in time, stumbling slightly so as to not knock her over. when he finally does manage to come to a complete stop he has a sheepish smile on his face. ❝sorry if i startled you,❞ he takes a few even breaths to get his HEART RATE to settle and waits for her to stand before holding out his hand.  ❝i’m aaron. -- nice to meet another early riser.❞                                                     plotted(ish) starter @integritykept​​

            ❝             AW         COME         ON          JJ,             why        must         cha’        doubt         me         ?          i         find         it        hurtful        you         have         𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎         𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚑         in         my        abilities.              ❞            

@integritykept​​​​​​       [  sc .  ]

“ WHERE DOES A CHILD HIDE in a small town like this ? ”

           spencer spends most of his time in the library; there is a comfort found in between the pages of a good book. he finds a home in the novels he’s read before and is a glutton for biographies he’s yet to read, consuming them faster than they can be re-shelved. at a young age spencer mastered the dewey decimal classification and made a habit of putting it to practice by re-shelving books instead of shoving them into the book return, unless he’s formally checked them out of the library.             currently he’s set to task of returning every t.s. eliot book to its rightful place, focused on sliding each one in its correct order. he doesn’t want to be responsible for a students mental breakdown in the stacks because of a careless numerical over site. it’s in these moments of deep concentration when the rest of the world fades from his consciousness, dismissing outside forces to the realm of unnoticed. only spencer and the books, an innocent endeavor, relaxing in its solitude.              that is until there is a collision of bony elbow and soft flesh --the sudden human contact rattles spencer from his dewey decimal dreamlike trance, skin flushed with embarrassment, regretful eyes take their time to find the victim of this accidental assault, “i am so sorry!” the words are shoved out with a squeak before he loses the ability to speak. “are you okay?” hazel eyes squint, the haze of recognition nagging at the edges of his memory. “i can get you an ice pack.”                                                @integritykept​ | a slightly plotted starter so u will love us

❝ you did a bad thing for a good reason. ❞ // @integritykept​.

       ‘  agent jareau? will danvers, i’m from the state department. we got a request for information from this office and well -  ‘    he holds up a file with a tight smile.    ‘  here i am.  ‘