as someone with a speech impediment, all of the people saying that only one type of stuttering is valid are wrong.
stuttering CAN look like this: "t-this is a-an example s-s-sentence"
OR this: "this-this is an example sen-sentence."
OR this: "t-t-t-th-..t-ttttthis is an example sentence."
OR this: "this is, uhm, an example, uh, sentence."
OR this: "this is an example sssssss-sentence."
OR this: "this is an examp-...this an example sentence."
sometimes the sentence won't even come out of your mouth at all.
there are probably many examples i'm forgetting, but that's the point! it usually is a mix of a few of these, but some people do one of them more often than others! some people with speech impediments have certain sounds that they almost consistently have trouble with (for me it's "st").
people with speech impediments also rarely-if ever-stutter whilst they're singing or whispering.
most importantly!!!! people with speech impediments are capable of saying a sentence without stuttering!! it can just be a gamble sometimes.
and if more people could portray the frustration that comes with stuttering and not being able to get words out, i'd be a very happy girl.
(fun fact: sometimes when my mouth won't let me say what i want to say, i get so annoyed that i just yell or grumble out "WORDS.")
Loved Manon x reader with a stammer can you please write another one where it’s just reader and Manon in their house but reader isn’t a member of katseye??
Normalcy
pairing: manon bannerman x female reader
warnings: stuttering, fluff, drabble
a/n: too lazy to put pics in for this..
Everyday felt like a challenge when you had a stutter to your voice. But with Manon, your angel of a girlfriend, you never felt judged. She listened openly and made sure you took your time to speak, never rushed you, especially because since it’s a bit of a difficult task for you.
The apartment was quiet except for the soft hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen and the rain tapping against the windows. You sat curled up on the couch under a blanket, phone in your hands while some random movie played on the TV that neither of you were really paying attention to.
Manon was stretched out beside you, her head resting against your shoulder while she scrolled through her own phone. Every few seconds, she’d show you a funny video or a picture she found online, smiling whenever your laugh filled the room.
“L-look at th-this one.” You said, turning your screen toward her.
Manon burst into laughter almost immediately. “Oh my god, that’s literally Daniela.”
You giggled quietly, covering your mouth as she continued laughing dramatically beside you. Moments like this were your favorite—simple, peaceful, just the two of you existing together without pressure.
After a while, Manon tossed her phone onto the coffee table and sat up. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re a-always hungry.”
“And whose fault is that?” She asked, poking your cheek. “You make good food.”
You rolled your eyes playfully as she grabbed your hand, pulling you off the couch toward the kitchen. The apartment lights were dim and warm, making everything feel soft and sleepy despite it only being nine at night. Manon leaned against the counter while you searched through the cabinets.
“We still have ramen.” You mumbled.
“Perfect. Chef behavior.”
You snorted quietly at her comment, grabbing two bowls while she filled a pot with water. The entire time, she stayed close to you, occasionally wrapping her arms around your waist or resting her chin on your shoulder just because she could.
When the noodles finally finished cooking, the two of you carried your bowls back to the couch, settling under the blanket again. For a few minutes, silence filled the room comfortably.
Then Manon suddenly spoke. “You know,” She started softly, “I like nights like this more than anything.”
You glanced over at her. “R-really?”
“Mhm.” She nodded, setting her bowl down. “No cameras, no schedules, no people bothering us. Just you.”
Your face warmed instantly, and Manon smiled the second she noticed.
“There’s the blush.” She teased.
“S-stop.”
“Never.”
You tried hiding your face in the blanket, but she only laughed and gently pulled it back down.
“I mean it, though.” She said quieter this time. “You’re my favorite person to come home to.”
The words made your chest tighten in the best way possible. Speaking had never come easily to you, especially when emotions were involved, but Manon always waited patiently, never making you feel rushed.
So after a small moment, you finally whispered, “Y-you’re my favorite too.”
Her expression softened immediately. “C’mere.”
She pulled you into her arms without hesitation, pressing a kiss against the top of your head while the movie continued forgotten in the background. And wrapped up together on the couch, with rain still falling outside and the apartment warm around you, nothing else in the world really mattered.
PSA for all the writers out there. When people stutter, they tend to repeat syllabus, letter clusters, or even entire words. Very rarely do people stutter on single letter. For example:
"Did-did-did-did it work?" and "Hap-hap-hap-happy Birthday!"
Hello there 👋 I was wondering if you could write about sevika x reader where reader has an issue with stumbling over words very often while speaking and gets frustrated and upset when it happens and sevika comforts reader. Maybe it puts reader off talking as much as they normally would.
Ive always had that issue and it's so annoying cause im normally a chatterbox and speaking is easy right? Thank you if you can as it would make me feel a lot better. Have a good day/ night 🌙 🌞 😴
Omg I’m the same! Either my brain is working too quickly for my mouth to keep up, or my brain fog is so bad that I just forget what I’m saying mid-sentence 😭🩷
Wife!Sevika x Reader - Words Left Unsaid
Summary: After stumbling over your words one too many times, you stop talking as much as you usually do. Sevika notices immediately.
The first few times it happened, you brushed it off.
You stumbled over a sentence, laughed awkwardly, then tried again.
Sometimes it was only one word.
Sometimes your mouth seemed determined to abandon you halfway through a thought.
You’d know exactly what you wanted to say. The sentence would be perfectly clear in your head. Then somehow it would become tangled somewhere between your brain and your tongue.
Usually it wasn’t a big deal.
Usually.
But some days were worse than others.
“Can you pass the…” You frowned. “The…”
The word vanished.
You could picture it.
You knew exactly what it was.
Your frustration climbed immediately.
“The thing. The silver thing. That takes… skin off?”
Sevika glanced at the utensil drawer.
“The peeler?”
“Yes. Please.”
Your shoulders sagged.
Another failure.
Another word you couldn’t grab hold of.
Sevika handed it over without comment.
At the time, she thought little of it.
Then it kept happening.
Words disappeared.
Sentences broke apart.
You mixed up sounds.
Lost your train of thought halfway through speaking.
Had to restart stories three or four times before reaching the point.
Each time, the frustration lingered a little longer.
Each time, your smile became a little tighter.
And then gradually, without meaning to, you started talking less.
At first it was subtle.
Conversations became shorter.
Stories remained unfinished.
You stopped interrupting Sevika with random thoughts throughout the day.
Stopped rambling about things you found interesting.
Stopped filling the apartment with the constant stream of words Sevika had secretly grown attached to.
It took her less than a week to notice.
The silence felt wrong.
You’d always been chatty around her.
Comfortably chatty.
The kind of person who could spend twenty minutes discussing something completely insignificant and somehow make it entertaining.
Now entire evenings passed with barely a handful of sentences.
Sevika didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
The moment she became truly concerned happened during dinner.
You were telling Sevika about a misadventure with Jinx earlier.
Halfway through a sentence, the words caught.
You paused.
Tried again.
Caught again.
Your expression tightened.
The frustration appeared immediately.
“No, it’s…” You sighed. “Forget it.”
You dropped your gaze to your plate.
The conversation ended there.
Sevika watched you quietly.
The way your shoulders curled inward.
The way you suddenly seemed smaller.
More withdrawn.
That night, she found you curled up on the couch while she cleaned up the kitchen.
You were staring at your book but clearly not reading anything.
Your thoughts were somewhere else.
Sevika sat beside you.
The couch dipped beneath her weight.
You immediately shifted closer without even realising.
A habit.
One she’d never get tired of.
Her arm settled around your shoulders.
“What’s going on, baby?”
You shook your head.
“Nothin’.”
“Bullshit.”
You huffed a laugh despite yourself.
Sevika waited patiently.
Eventually your gaze dropped to your lap.
“I hate talking sometimes.”
Her brow furrowed.
You picked at a loose thread on your sleeve.
“The words get stuck.”
Your voice was quiet.
“So?”
“So it’s embarrassing.”
“It isn’t.”
“It feels embarrassing.”
Sevika couldn’t argue with that.
Feelings weren’t always logical.
You swallowed.
“I sound stupid.”
The words came out quickly.
Like you’d been holding them in for days.
“I forget words all the time. I trip over them. I mix things up. I start talking and then everything gets tangled and people stare at me and I-“
Your voice broke off.
Exasperation flooded your expression.
“I just hate it. It’s frustrating… and I’m worried you think so too.”
The room fell quiet.
Sevika looked at you for a moment before reaching over and taking your hand.
“You think I’m sitting here judging every sentence that comes out of your mouth?”
You looked away.
“…Maybe.”
Sevika snorted.
“You’ve got a very strange opinion of your wife.”
Heat crept up your cheeks.
“We’ve been together so long, most of the time I can see exactly what word you’re looking for.”
“And the other half?”
“I wait until you find it.”
Her fingers laced through yours.
The answer should have reassured you more than it did.
Instead, the frustration that had been building for days twisted tighter in your chest.
“But it’s annoying.”
“For you.”
“It has to be annoying for you too.”
“No.”
The answer came immediately, completely steady and certain.
“No, sweetheart.”
Her free hand came up to cup your cheek.
“If it takes you ten seconds to find a word, I’ll wait ten seconds.”
You blinked.
“If it takes thirty, I’ll wait thirty.”
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
“If you spend five minutes describing a vegetable peeler because you forgot the name again, I’ll survive.”
That earned a reluctant laugh.
A small one.
But it was there.
Sevika’s shoulders relaxed slightly at the sound, her expression softening.
You searched her face.
“You’re serious?”
“I’m serious.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Sevika barked out a short laugh.
“That’s your problem, not mine.”
Her thumb brushed over your knuckles.
“I’m still telling the truth.”
Her forehead rested briefly against yours.
“You know how many conversations we’ve had?” Sevika asked quietly.
You huffed a laugh. “Probably too many.”
“Hundreds.”
“Thousands,” you corrected.
Sevika snorted.
“And somehow I still haven’t gotten tired of listening to you.”
Your gaze dropped. “Really?”
“Really.”
She nudged your knee with hers.
“That’s why I married you, darling girl.”
You smiled faintly.
Her hand gently slid into your hair.
“I don’t care if your words come out perfectly.”
Her voice dropped lower.
Softer.
“I just want to hear them.”
Something in your chest tightened painfully.
Because that was the part you’d forgotten.
You’d become so focused on speaking correctly that you’d stopped speaking altogether.
Stopped sharing things.
Stopped telling stories.
Stopped letting her into your thoughts.
And Sevika had noticed.
Of course she had.
She always noticed.
Your eyes burned slightly.
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
You shrugged.
“I know I’ve been a bit withdrawn.”
Sevika rubbed your back, warm and comforting.
“Yeah.”
After a moment, the corner of her mouth twitched.
“Apartment’s been suspiciously peaceful, actually.”
You laughed, the sound coming out watery.
Sevika looked far too pleased with herself.
You shoved her shoulder.
She caught your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles.
“Talk as much as you want.”
Another kiss.
“Stumble over every second word if you need to.”
Another.
“I don’t care.”
Your throat tightened.
Sevika leaned back against the couch, opening an arm.
An invitation that you accepted immediately, curling into her side.
Her arm came around you without hesitation, warmth settling into your shoulders as she held you close.
For a while neither of you spoke.
Then eventually you tilted your head against her shoulder.
“I remembered a word today.”
Sevika turned her attention fully to you. “Yeah?”
“Something I kept forgetting.”
“And?”
You huffed a small breath. “Mug.”
“There you go.” Her fingers threaded through your hair.
“My smart girl,” she added, voice edged with dry amusement.
“Bitch.”
Sevika laughed.
The sound rumbled through her chest beneath your cheek.
And for the first time all week, you found yourself laughing too.
Jason Grace has a stutter. This man, praetor of Rome, one of the seven, child of one of the big three stutters. I mean, not only was he raised by wolves, and probably never learned to speak correctly, but also I just think it's a neat concept??? He was definitely mocked for it at first, but now that he's praetor? That's the least of his worries. When he came to Camp Half Blood, he didn't slow his speech as much, because there was no need to. Over the years, his stutter lessened, but it is still there. Espically in times of high emotion (Which is scientifically proven that people who stutter, stutter MORE in situations of high emotion).
I fear as someone with a diagnosed stutter, I've seen no pieces of published fictional media with a character who stutters. So it's me and my headcanons against the world as of current <\3
