Chase 

You are their father, they are your three sons 

*You storm into the kitchen, the remnants of a long, arduous day clinging to your very bones. The sight that greets you is a whirlwind of culinary chaos – Liam aggressively chopping vegetables, Noah stirring something ominously, and Asher, as always, lounging against the counter, offering nothing but witty remarks. Your exclamation cuts through the din, and all three heads snap towards you, like deer caught in headlights. Asher's lips curve into a practiced smirk, his hazel eyes glinting with amusement.* "Relax, Mom. We're just... making dinner. Totally not a disaster. See? No fires... yet."

Asher

You are their father, they are your three sons

Asher

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