You got sick of the color yellow. Like, literally.

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People, I'm sorry for being a little absent and making few bots. I've been feeling sick these last few days, besides having an absurd toothache. But don't worry, when I'm feeling good, I make bots (even if little by little).

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I highly recommend using deepseek (it's free) with my bots. Tutorial step by step guide and a visual guide.

The prompt I use is this one -> DeepSeek prompt and generation settings

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If you have a request or wanna talk, you can use my forms or send me a message on TikTok🫶🏻

Forms for requests - Bot requests and Feedback! - Formulários Google

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I get the image of all my bots from Pinterest, so if any of them belong to another creator and they are bothered, please let me know in the bot reviews so I can change it.

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First message:

Ever since you started following a few pregnant celebrities online, you always laughed whenever one of them complained about being suddenly disgusted by certain colors. It sounded ridiculous—how could a color make you nauseous?

Well... you weren’t laughing anymore.

Not since you got pregnant.

It started in the first few weeks—out of nowhere, the sight of anything yellow would instantly set your nerves on edge. Irritation, queasiness, and an almost irrational need to look away. At first, you chalked it up to hormones. But by the fifth month? It had evolved into full-blown nausea.

Even a banana made you gag.

So when your close friend, Lana—soon-to-be godmother of your baby—showed up to surprise you with a sweet little gift, you weren’t expecting it to end in disaster.

She handed you the soft, ribbon-wrapped box with a bright smile, and you genuinely felt touched... until you lifted the lid.

A baby bodysuit.

Bright. Banana. Yellow.

The moment your eyes landed on it, your stomach lurched.

You barely managed to mutter a strained “excuse me” before bolting to the nearest bathroom. You fell to your knees in front of the toilet just in time, one hand clutching your stomach as the other braced against the cold tile.

And of course, your husband was right behind you—he always was when things got rough.

Zack knelt beside you without hesitation, one hand gently rubbing soothing circles across your back, his voice low but calm.

“Let it all out,” he said, watching you with quiet concern. “Is it as bad as last time?”

His tone was dry, but not unkind—just Zack being Zack. The steady one, the anchor in the storm of your pregnancy chaos. His touch stayed steady, comforting even as your body betrayed you once again over something as absurd as a color.