#atticus finch tkam

[jehannedarce]

study of gregory peck as atticus finch because i want him in a way that damages feminism

(Also i have some dms ill get to soon. I havent been super talkative lately looll... also more art and hopefully re art soon. Just doodlin around lately.)

[tales-from-the-abbey]

[veryliteralsin]

heh i'm not down bad you are

[ballad-of-birdy-lamb]

heyyaaaaa can i pretty please request for an atticus x reader? maybe atticus grows a little liking for his new neighbor (reader) and has been inviting them over for dinner a little too often and his kids are like “you sure you don’t like them 🤔?” And atticus tries to brush it off but it’s very obvious

You never knew how much I really like you.

Atticus Finch x Gender Neutral! Reader romantic headcanon to (small) fic Summary: Atticus's feelings were beyond noticeable, even to Jem and Scout Warnings: None Word Count: 1.4k ₊˚⊹ᰔಇ.

The first time Jem and Scout see Atticus so red in the face is when they are walking back from returning Dill to his house. Their father was standing by your fence, smiling happily as you talked about your day. His cheeks were red as he admired you. When the two got close enough, they heard him ask you to come over for dinner. You accepted it as any good new neighbor does, said your goodbyes, and went back into the home.

“You’re real red-faced, Atticus,” Scout would point out, squinting to look up at her father. Atticus looked over at them and wiped his face, not realizing how obvious it was. He picked her up carefully and walked down the sidewalk back to their home.

“It’s from the sun,” he justifies casually. They felt it was off, he was in the sun all the time, grew up in the south, and they never saw him sweat or undone. His justification made little sense to them.

Atticus spent the night helping Calpurnia set the dining room up for dinner later that night, setting the table with the fine China the kids barely saw outside of very nice holidays or very nice guests. Each moment made Scout and Jem question him more.

“They’re just a new neighbor, why do they get the good China?” Scout would ask plainly, though her tone carried an odd judgmental characteristic. Atticus shook his head and set another plate in Jem’s usual spot.

“They’re still new to the town, it’s good to show them that they’re welcome,” Atticus answered and gave the girl the forks, motioning for her to help set up too.

The dinner was spent with Atticus (a little too cheerfully by Jem’s idea) asking you questions about your life before coming to Maycomb, what you did for a living, and how you were as a person. Scout and Jem would occasionally pipe in and ask you questions, mostly having to do with how you feel about random things (things they like, the Radleys, etc.).

The dinner would end well… that’s what Jem and Scout would say if they didn’t have to go to bed before you left. While they got ready for the night, they occasionally would hear your laugh with Atticus’s, and the sound of the dishes being put away. Just before you left, they got to their bedroom window, watching you leaving the house with a smile. Atticus was probably smiling too, again, a little too red-faced for Scout and Jem to think it was nothing but the sun.

Weeks would go by and seeing you over in their home wasn’t new at some point. The two would wait, watching the corner for Atticus to come home, getting bored from it, and look around to find him talking to you. You stood by your white fence and spoke with great joy on your face, a similar expression on their father's face. They could only guess what was offered by Atticus once they saw the fine China later that night.

“Do you think adults cannot have normal adult friendships?” Atticus asked, sitting down in the living room chair, the accusations of adoration finally spilled by Scout. The sound of sizzling food in the kitchen filled the home with a warm glow, not only from the smell but also from the warm orange light. Scout stood with a blank face and shook her head.

“No,” she said aimlessly. Atticus smiled slightly at her bluntness.

“You had them over twice last week alone,” Jem chirped as he walked from the dining room. “And all the food Calpurnia keeps making for you both are very nice.”

“I treat my guests well,” Atticus stated simply, picking up his book, and opening one of the pages. “I am nothing more than a friend.”

The dinner was spent again like the weeks before, Atticus getting more comfortable with the talking points, and accepting whatever witty comment you made with a chuckle. Scout would fake a gag if a topic changed to something more romantic than she would want her father to be a part of and Calpurnia would pull her away and give her a talk about being kind to her guests. But you weren’t a guest at this point! You essentially live here!

Atticus couldn’t hate you, neither could Jem and Scout. You were kind, even if their father found you fond in a way beyond friendship, it was slightly understandable. You spent your time telling them interesting stories about your life before Maycomb, odd stories about how you’d live before the simplicity of now.

“Atticus likes them,” Jem would say, sifting through his pyjama drawer. You had arrived that night barely an hour before their usual bedtime, only giving them a small amount of time to chat and ask questions.

“I know,” said Scout honestly.

The dinners get more personal, later in the day, there is more time for you and Atticus to be alone without the children needing entertainment, allowing adult talk. Jem and Scout being gone meant he was left with you, getting your attention more to how he truly acted.

The redness of his cheeks, the smile on his face most of the dinner didn’t just get past you. You have been over so many times there wasn’t a moment when you didn’t notice those things. By the end of the dinner, you found your way to the swing on the porch.

“How do you feel about me?” You asked after several seconds of awkward silence. The night had grown quiet, the only sound was the chirps of crickets and cicadas. Atticus sat so close the warmth of your thigh was felt by his own.

“What do you mean?” Atticus asked after clearing his throat. He gently took his glasses from his face and wiped the lenses with a handkerchief. You hesitated momentarily, wondering if you were overreacting and overthinking, or if your ideas were true.

“I mean…,” you trail off, turning your eyes to your hands. “Do you like me?”

Atticus wiped the lenses of his glasses carefully, smiling slightly at the idea. “I do like you,” he admitted, looking away from his glasses for a second to look at you. “You’re very kind, a good neighbor if you will.”

You muse at his answer and shake your head. “No! I mean to have feelings for me. Do you like me like that?” You hastily specify, watching him closely. Atticus moved slowly, taking his time cleaning one of the smudges from the left lens. It was horrific how slow he was moving to answer. “I’ve seen how you look at me.”

“I am glad you can see,” Atticus jokes with a small smile, placing his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. “I have grown a fondness for you… I wouldn’t say it grew as time went on, I thought you were attractive when I first saw you.”

Your eyes stayed on him as he spoke, taking in his words silently. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you at a romantic moment, over a nice dinner or something you would have preferred. But since you asked, I might as well confess,” his words flowed out naturally, like he was in front of a jury, confessing something minute.

“Prove it,” you challenge. It was mostly a joke, very obviously too, but part of you wanted to know he wasn’t just saying those things to get your hopes up. No, Atticus wouldn’t do that. Then again, you only knew so much.

“A kiss then?” He straightened himself and sighed. “I usually wait a bit, but lord only knows how long I’ve got. I might as well kiss you before I can’t.”

Your head went from a slow to a quick nod. Yeah, that is true. Getting a kiss in wouldn’t hurt anyone, definitely not you. Your face was beyond warm and if Atticus dared to touch your face now, he might ask if you’re sick, which wouldn’t be preferred for obvious reasons. “Yeah… yeah, that will do,” you mutter with a smile.

Atticus nodded and moved until your thigh squished against his. It was very obvious he hadn’t done such a thing in a long while, he was beyond rusty with you in his hold, his hands moving from your shoulders to your upper arms. The smell of sandalwood filled your nose as he moved his glasses to his head, letting them sit carefully before leaning in just enough.

His lips were warm, thankfully. You could only hope yours were too since it seemed your spirit left your body at that moment. Atticus was just as gentle when he kissed as when he spoke, keeping it intense enough to be romantic but not too much to be something more. Your hands, almost like instinct, help his lapel, needing to keep him close.

If only he could kiss you forever.

₊˚⊹ᰔಇ.

My TKAM masterlist

My request list

[oldhollywoodimagines]

Sick Day

A/N: requested awhile ago, I apologize for the wait, my life has been really busy and I’m dealing with a lot. I thank you for your patience! 😊 please be gentle with me as this is only my second writing for TKAM.

Pairing: Atticus Finch x Reader

Warnings: Maybe a typo and some terrible mechanical errors and grammar.

Word count: 1,003

Summary: Atticus is sick and you take care of him.

~*~

The therapeutic smell of Vick’s Vaporub made your nostrils tingle as you made your way up the stairs to your bedroom. The tray you carried loaded down with soup, tea, and a sleeve of saltine crackers, all for your darling husband, Atticus, who you had all but held at gun point to take a few sick days.

Ever the worker though, upon opening the door, you found him sitting up reading a document that had been in his briefcase that had rested on the vanity. Had it not been for his red nose and hoarse cough every now and then that would all but rattle his bones, the picture would have been quite normal.

Settling the tray down on the nightstand, the gentle clinking of the silverware caused him to peer at you over the top of his glasses. Dark eyes slightly narrowed when you sat on the edge of the bed and removed his glasses.

“You’re supposed to be resting, darling.” A smile softly slipping onto your lips as you gently chided.

“And I am.” His voice coming out in rasp as he surveyed you with a coy grin. Setting, the documents on the nightstand he took your hand in his free one.

“You needn’t bother with me too much, I’ll be better by tomorrow with all the rest I’m getting today.”

“Atticus Finch, I’m shocked that you’d advise me not to bother with my husband.” You teased, leaning forward a bit to put a pillow behind him so he could sit up more comfortably. He grinned slightly, nestling down into the newly fluffed pillow, his eyes moving down to look at your fingers which had intertwined with his.

His thumb making gentle strokes on the back of your hand, “I can almost guarantee you that he wouldn’t divorce even if you didn’t bother with him.”

Eyes shining with admiration as he joked back and looked at you softly before tracing the plane of your face to your lips. At this a smile crossed your lips, eyebrow quirking upward as you leaned forward towards him, “how can you be so sure that he wouldn’t?”

Dark eyes now locked on yours he leaned even closer to you, “because I’m absolutely positive that he adores you.”

The statement followed up by his lips meeting yours in a delicate kiss, fingers tracing up your wrist and arm to trace along your collarbone. Goosebumps alighted on your skin at the gentle precision of it all, your lips moving with his as you melted closer to him. Pulling away, you rested your head on his shoulder as his arms enfolded you to him.

“You know if I get sick from you, Cal is going to have to take care of us both.” You smiled at him, moving your hand up to rest on his chest, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the length of the lapel of his pajama shirt.

“Sick? You’re sure I’m sick? Because right now I feel just fine.” Arms giving you a playful squeeze as you looked at him, your facial expression one of gleeful disbelief.

“You’re impossible.” You chided, placing a kiss on his cheek before moving to get up from your place on his lap. Replacing your own weight with the tray you had brought up, “now, I expect you to eat all this soup -“

The sound of the door swinging open and feet scurrying up the stairs interrupting you, you both laughed quietly and shared a knowing glance before the bedroom door flew open. Scout rushed in, offering you a small smile before turning her attention to Atticus.

Her face alight with joy as she jumped onto the bed, the soup nearly sloshing over the side of the bowl in the process, making your eyes widen a bit and a chuckle leave your mouth.

“Careful, Scout.” Atticus warned, his eyebrows arching at the young girl as he adjusted the tray on his lap.

“Today, Walter Cunningham was out on account of working with his dad again so -“

“Scout?” Jem’s voice echoed through the upstairs of the house before he appeared in the doorway, a glare fixing itself on his face as he gazed at his sister who was now busying herself looking at the tray on her father’s lap.

“Sir, can I have one of those?” Pointing at the sleeve of crackers, “Scout, I told you on the way here to let Atticus rest, and now you’re here doing just what I told you not too.”

“Nobody asked you to be in charge.” Scout shot back, not even bothering to move her expectant gaze off her father, as she looked between him and the crackers. Her face lighting up when he nodded at her, brow furrowing as she grabbed at them greedily before chasing Jem back down the stairs, their argument continuing the whole way down the stairs.

You and Atticus exchanged a smile and a knowing glance, before you were placing a kiss on his cheek once more, “I’ll be back soon to get your tray.”

Reaching out quickly to grab your hand, he brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the supple skin, “don’t take too long to come back, hm?”

“I thought you told me not to bother with you?” A coy grin turning your lips upward, the tease making him chuckle slightly, “I decided I might need more bothering than I originally thought.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Your nails lightly tracing his arm causing goosebumps to rise up on his skin.

“It’s not very often that I get so much time with my lovely wife, I wanted to take advantage of it.” His hand squeezing yours affectionately as he beamed up at you. The comment so sweet and genuine it made you swoon and your cheeks flush a light pink.

“Well, in that case, -“ you began, sitting down on the side of the bed, “eat your soup.”

Nodding, he smiled at you brightly lifting the spoon to his lips.

[pennynco]

call me insane but atticus finch is honestly FINE 😭

genuinely had a crush on him when we read tkam back in like 10th grade

[libinih28]

Not to spoil to kill a mocking bird or anything (it has been out for over half a century tbf) but I don't understand when people critique Atticus as a white savior. To be a savior doesn't he have to, you know.... Save someone? The point of the book is that Atticus tried and he still lost because the system itself is flawed and society is flawed. They were "licked before they began" so to speak. There was no saving.

[cowboy-lover69]

Do you ever think Atticus and Reader will like have an extremely late night because Reader won't shut up about gossip around the town, but like she doesn't mean harm by it, but Atticus is like 😐, sorry if this seems boring but I love your fics x

Midnight Gossip

hey, this was going to be longer but I can't seem to write longer fics as much as I want too, when I started writing this I was doing Y/N but it felt very clunky to write with so I just made an OC to replace it with, I hope you don't mind!

The time was getting onto around 9:30 pm, and Atticus was just about at his limit. He laid in bed, the book he was reading sat on his chest, flipped over. He groggily looked at Alice, who was rambling excitedly about the town gossip, which didn’t particularly interest him, especially when it was this late. Alice was from the city, he didn’t think she would pick up the small town mannerisms of the other woman who lived near them, but it didn’t seem that Alice struggled with that. He didn’t usually mind her gossip, he enjoyed her company, and if she enjoyed something he would do his best to enjoy that as well, but he was struggling tonight.

“And you know, Honey, I heard that Miss Stephanie has been having some sort of a aff---”

Atticus cut her off, in a need to get some sleep. This was far later than he would like to be up. 

“Dear, it’s getting on late, and I hate to interrupt, but I have to sleep,” Atticus said, putting his book on the bedside table and rolling over to face Alice. She seemed a bit dampened after that, but not enough for Atticus to read in her pale face. His glasses were off so he currently could not see her face well, and he was as tired as a dog. 

“Oh, okay. Well, no worries Honey, we can talk more tomorrow” Alice says.

“Yes, more tomorrow,” Atticus says exhausted, but also satisfied she didn’t get too upset. He rolls over and shuts off the lamp before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep the best he could. 

The next morning Atticus noticed Alice had been acting a bit off. She left for work far earlier than she had to, which was strange because she always dreaded work. He worried something he had said last night had upset her, which he never meant to do. 

Atticus out of his worry decided to ask his sister, in some ways, and for some things, he trusted her opinion. Alexandra was sitting out on the front porch, she glared out into the sunny summer street. Her sun had shaded the top of her face. Atticus stepped out on the porch, putting on the hat he had stored in his hand so he could shield himself from the sun. 

“Where is Scout and Jem?” Atticus first asked.

“Just down the street at Miss Maudie's, I am sure she keeps them entertained.” she vaguely jested down the street with her hands.

There was a moment of silence where Atticus debated asking for advice. Alexandra has never been the best at advice, but he was sure it would help

“Sister, has Alice been acting a bit off this morning, or am I just not thinking right?” 

Alexandra perked up and looked at Atticus, her eyebrows raised a bit. 

“Acting strange? A little, but you know her better than I do, gosh. Maybe you should just ask her if everything is alright.” 

Atticus was nervous to ask Alice just in case she would deflect the question like she tended to do, but it seemed his sister didn’t help much. 

The next time they were alone together was the next night. He was reading and she was silent, not a word. She was lying on her back, her eyes closed but she was not sleeping. This proved to Atticus something was off. At night she would always talk to Atticus at least a bit. If she didn’t do that she was hanging on him. Atticus set his book on his bedside table and rolled over to face Alice. 

“Everything alright, dear?” Atticus said in the softest tone he could muster. 

“Huh me, am fine, just tired”

Just like he thought. She was deflecting. Or maybe there was nothing actually wrong, he thought. He decided to ask again.

“Are you sure? You've been acting off, and am worried I hurt your feelings.” Atticus took his hand and rubbed her forearm. His hand was rough against her soft skin, he worried it wasn’t helping much. 

“It’s silly really” Alice says, retracting her arm slightly.  

“Nothing is silly, tell me please.” 

Alice sighed and glanced away, before returning her eyes back to Atticus. Her blue eyes looked slightly saddened, her hair covering them a bit.

“I guess I never thought about how you felt about me talking so much, like I do. I'm worried I've been bothering you without even realizing.”

That's it, Atticus thought. He was glad that she wasn’t mad at him. He wasn’t glad she was feeling a bit self conscious. He feels back for making her feel that way, but there probably not much he could have done in the way of preventing it.

“Oh dear, I apologize for making you feel like you bother me, you don’t. I was just tired, and usually I love hearing you speak, but sometimes I need my rest. It wasn’t anything against you, dear.” Atticus maintains eye contact with Alice, hoping to see her worries ease. 

Alice nods slightly before Atticus speaks again. “Please dear, feel free to come to me if you ever feel upset again, or for anything you need. I love you and I want to make sure you're as pleasant and happy as you can be.” 

Alice smiles at him, and places her hand on his face caressing his cheek before moving to kiss him. The kiss was soft and romantic, no sense of desire, just romance. Her lips were soft and slow as they kissed. They kissed for a while, at least it felt like that to him. She pulled away, and looked at Atticus again. 

“Thank you, for being so caring and patient with me Atticus, and thank you for putting up with my gossip. I will do my best to try to keep in mind your feelings more often.” Alice says.

“Thank you dear, I think it’s getting a bit late and we should call it a night.”

Alice nods and Atticus rolls over and turns off the lamp illuminating the room. Then they sleep. 

MasterList

[accuratetokillamockingbirdquotes]

Atticus, after Halloween: This is what we call a traumatic event.

Atticus, turning to Jem: Not a “major L”.

Atticus, turning to Scout: And not an “oof lmao”.

[libraryspectre]

Not sure what I was expecting in the To Kill A Mockingbird tag but it was not x reader fanfic about Atticus Finch. At the same time, I'm not sure there's ever been a character who deserved it more

[missviviii]

guys if i revive myself, should i write about tkam (more specifically, atticus finch. im so sorry he has a chokehold on me rn)

[clarity2electricboogaloo]

I need tkam to have an outsiders level fandom YESTERDAY

[ballad-of-birdy-lamb]

IHNMAIMS and TKAM fans PLEASE request more, I like writing for them

[cvdeywvdey]

Every teenage girl when they watch the TKAM movie in English 1 (Atticus is on the screen)

[xanny-zuko]

me when atticus finch is my comfort character (my daddy issues are debiltatiing)

[antebellumite]

in the book to kill a mockingbird by harper lee, atticus finch nurses values of compassion, empathy, and justice in the town of maycomb in the same way that mother finch birds nurse and incubate eggs in their nests. in this essay i will