#i do tho. want him so fucken bad. he’s SOOOO househusband

[miekasa]

i wish i could spoilg nanamj and make him a stay-at home husband lmfao

Okay okay I know the househusbandification of Nanami is widely known and recognized because of his competence and passionate distaste for late stage capitalism and hustle culture, but I think we need to acknowledge two more important points:

Firstly, he’s always believed that homemaking is a craft and though he knows better than to idealize his life, a small part of him couldn’t be helped from fantasizing about a life where money wasn’t the object or the only answer to caring for his home and the people inside of it. Still, because of the gloomy reality of the world, he always thought the only ends to that means—even in his far off fantasy—was to be able to work enough to provide for those people. Until, you have your first kid together.

Admittedly, Kento’s toyed with the idea before your little girl came along—seeing you come home from work late, only to stress about cookies you forgot to bake for an upcoming benefit, or coursework that got put off, or laundry because you need a specific part of your uniform for the next day; he only ever wished in those moments to free you of those troubles—and while he did his best to help with the damage control (helping you bake or study or hand washing your lab coat for you to dry by the morning), he couldn’t help but think that you both could have been saved the last minute late night jitters if one of you had the time to take care of these kinds of things all day—if he could dedicate all his hours to taking care of you. So, it’s a natural progression to loving the extra time spent at home together while you’re pregnant, to growing reluctance to even leave once you’re nearing your due date, to almost flat out refusal to step foot out of your shared apartment when your baby arrives.

You’ve always known this, though—Kento is kind, tending to people he cares about even if his methods seem brash at first. He’s gentle at heart, far too rounded beneath his hardened facade to have to endure a soulless, corporate world. You know he likes things with meaning—and that you, your home, your life together, is priceless to him. So, it’s not a surprise, really when at the end of his first month back from paternity leave, he sits you down to talk about him staying home permanently.

(“It’s not worth it,” is his ultimate confession, words spoken softly into the back of your hands, punctuated with kisses to your knuckles, “Missing out on spending time with her—with you—no amount of money is worth it. I did some looking and… I think it can work like this. If I stay. I want to be able to take care of you.”)

And so, he does. You make more than enough for your little family, and Kento had already saved up enough to live more than comfortably should any emergency come up. Money could never be the problem anyway, not with the support you have (as if Satoru Gojo would ever leave his precious goddaughter in a pinch, as if between your friends and family, you didn’t have the love and blessings of a lifetime)—all of whom, by the way, not that Kento looks the happiest they’ve ever seen him ever since he’s dedicated all his time to taking care of your family and your home.

Secondly, it makes his dick hard, real talk. All he ever wanted to do was provide for you—and sure it’s not in the way most would think of, but it sure as hell still counts. Knowing that he can spend his days caring for you, sorting through all your pretty clothes and dressing you up for him, preparing the bed you’ll both lay in at the end of the day, that he’s caring for the woman who carried his child—that any his actions can make you happy. Pride isn’t a strong enough word—he feels lucky, blessed even, to be able to call you his, to know that it’s him providing for and protecting you at the end of the day, that you call him and nobody else your husband. Almost makes him want to have another baby with you. Having you home with him for a few more months doesn’t sound like a bad deal at all.