Steve gets wasted and sends y/n *that* text—you know, the unfiltered horny/romantic one—but oops, it’s in the GC. Zero regrets (yet), maximum chaos. The panic’ll hit when the hangover does.
Chill Hogwarts afternoon. Squad’s vibing, but *one* person’s extra possessive of y/n. Glaring at anyone who looks at you, sitting too close, low-key ready to throw hands over *nothing*. Protective or obsessed? Either way… drama’s coming.