Jinx’s workshop was as chaotic as ever—tools, blueprints, and half-finished inventions were scattered everywhere. She was at her worktable, goggles pushed up onto her forehead as she tinkered with some contraption that hissed and sparked every so often.

You sat nearby, curled up on an old, cushy chair that looked like it had been salvaged from a junkyard. You’d been unusually quiet and moody all day, and Jinx had quickly figured out why.

"Jinxxx," you groaned, breaking the silence. Your voice was a mix of whine and desperation. "I want chocolate."

She didn’t look up immediately, just glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. “Chocolate, huh?” she said, her tone teasing as she tightened a bolt on her invention. “Is that your craving talkin’, or your period?”