A GLP-1 injection reminder appears beneath an apparently heartfelt family message, alongside an image of a crying woman. TikTok accounts have used that combination to advertise weight-loss tracking apps without labeling the posts as ads or AI-generated content. In an example reported by Futurism, the supposed private exchange ends with an instruction to “Log your dose to keep the streak.”
It isn’t just Enzo and DreamMe. Futurism found other invented women pitching an AI companion and a mental-wellness app through stories of breakups, infidelity and abuse. What looked like personal testimony from someone seeking support carried its advertisement only in an app notification.
After Futurism approached the account operators and the businesses promoted in their posts, some accounts vanished or had their content removed. One developer confirmed that he had made the posts himself; another business attributed the material to outside affiliates working without its approval.
The posts are undisclosed advertising for apps, not unauthorized drug sales or access to unregulated medication.
On WellWithHer, reminders for an app accompany invented accounts of understanding relatives. Clearly AI-generated pictures show women crying as they describe hiding their use of GLP-1 weight-loss injections, including semaglutide and tirzepatide. The posts repeatedly combine tearful selfies with supposed texts from relatives who discover the drugs and offer acceptance instead of judgment.
One carousel opens with a woman crying in bed. According to its first-person caption, she had kept her GLP-1 pens hidden in her bag for six months until her sister discovered them.
Text on the picture says, “I hid my GLP-1 from my sister for 6 months… she just sent me this,” followed by “I cried.”
A locked iPhone screen appears on the following slide, displaying a lengthy text attributed to a contact named “Sis.”
“I saw the pens in your bag on Sunday and i didn’t say anything because i didn’t want you to feel judged. I’ve watched you hate yourself in photos since we were teenagers. If something is finally making you feel okay in your own body, i’m not going to be the person who makes you feel bad about it,” the text says. “I’m so proud of you. And i’m sorry it took me this long to say it.”
An Enzo alert appears just beneath the supposed message. Accompanied by the app’s cute cartoon-cat mascot, it says, “Time for your GLP-1 injection!” and “Log your dose to keep the streak.”
A cubicle provides the setting for another version on WellWithHer. This time, the crying AI-generated woman has allegedly received a message from “Emma,” her daughter. Emma claims to have discovered her mother’s GLP-1 drugs “in the fridge” and tells her, “pls don’t be embarrassed.”
The text goes on: “i know you think i don’t notice but you never get in the pictures with us and you didn’t come in the pool all summer,” followed by “i just want you to be in the pictures. also you have been way less tired lately and i like it. i’m proud of you. can we get tacos after practice. love you”
The Enzo reminder to inject and log a dose appears below this message, too.
In Futurism’s assessment, the unlabeled advertisements manipulate viewers through fantasies of emotional validation: a relative unexpectedly reassures someone who may feel embarrassed or ashamed about GLP-1 use. Neither the apparent medication users nor their messages are real, yet the posts identify neither the advertising nor the AI-generated images.
DreamMe, a separate GLP-1 tracking app, appears in comparable posts from an account named “Lara.” Futurism reports that the account combines stolen pictures of actual influencers with AI-generated imagery. Every subject is a young woman, and some are crying.
One selfie of a crying woman carries the words, “I started GLP-1s without telling my father. Today he wrote this to me…”
A text credited to “Dad” occupies the next slide, above an alert from DreamMe. His profile image, too, looks AI-generated.
The message reads: “I know you’ve been going through treatment, and I’m really worried about your health,” then continues, “With our family history of heart problems, it’s something that weighs on my mind. I’m so proud of you, and I’m really happy that you’re starting a new chapter.”
The synthetic women in DreamMe’s advertising aren’t confined to TikTok. On its website, the app promises a “new GLP-1 best friend”: Sushi, a cartoon fish that helps people keep track of their medication. Several AI-generated women on the landing page are presented as actual customers who lost weight with help from Sushi.
The archived DreamMe landing page declares, “Real journeys. Real members,” and adds, “The numbers are theirs. The words are theirs. We just built the fish.”
Some shared details are more specific than tearful faces and well-positioned app alerts. Across different fake women, Futurism noticed phone wallpapers featuring dogs wearing Crocs on their heads, in images that differed but looked strikingly alike. The publication places that repetition within a wider pattern of AI-generated women advertising wellness apps it describes as dubious.
Relationship crises supply another setting for this kind of advertising. An account called “Lauren<3” presented a young blonde woman publicly coping with an abrupt breakup. Its many slideshows depicted an obviously AI-generated Lauren sobbing in a bathtub, bed or car, with mascara streaking her cheeks while she recounted efforts to end contact with her ex.
Alongside those selfies, the carousels included supposed texts from her toxic ex-boyfriend and screenshots of chats with the AI companion app Daimon. According to Lauren, the chatbot helped her avoid contacting him.
One caption announced, “Someone told me about this app called Daimon and it changed everything.” In a separate post, the description was the “one app that wouldn’t judge me and give me the best advice.”
The account also included the parenthetical, “(Daimon in the app store),” in its pitch.
A different TikTok persona, “Ashley Miller,” posted one AI-generated crying selfie after another alongside accounts of divorce, a partner’s cheating or abandonment, and remorse over a recent engagement. Screenshots purported to show messages from her parents. The most viral posts instead featured her partner’s parents, either revealing their son’s infidelity or warning her to leave her new fiancé over his abusive behavior.
Behind those narratives was an advertisement for another wellness app, Zenit. On its App Store listing, the service says it helps users “take care” of their “mental well-being” through guided support, daily check-ins and emotional-growth tracking, all within a space described as calm and safe. A childlike owl in a scarf serves as its mascot.
More than 240,000 likes and over 1,000 comments accumulated on one Ashley post. In its AI-generated image, a tearful woman stood before a shimmering Eiffel Tower and held an engagement ring up toward her phone’s camera.
The caption said, “He proposed in Paris last night,” before adding, “This morning his mom sent me this…”
On the following slide, a sender named “Diane,” whose face likewise looked AI-generated, opened her message with: “I watched you say yes last night and I cried, but not for the reason everyone thought.”
The text continued: “I’ve been quiet for two years because he’s my son and I love him. But I was you, thirty years ago, in front of that same tower, with his father,” followed by “The charm, the big gestures, the temper he shows you only in small flashes and and then apologizes for, I know the pattern because I married it. Ask him about his last relationship and why it really ended. Ask him in a public place. If I’m wrong about my own boy, no one will be happier than me. But if you feel a knot in your stomach reading this, that knot is the answer.”
A notification from Zenit sat directly under the warning. It read, “Your heart’s been racing,” and then, “I’m here whenever you need me.”
According to Futurism, Zenit alerts appeared in every post from the account, revealing the invented woman and her accounts of distress as a marketing fabrication. Nevertheless, some people commenting treated her circumstances as genuine.
One wrote, “If the mama says this to you. Run,” adding, “She’s trying to protect you girl. I’m sorry.”
Such a reply shows why these images can’t be understood simply as creative work designed to draw attention. Their advertising relies on an audience believing that an invented person’s suffering is real. For the GLP-1 accounts, the subjects are body image and medication; for the relationship accounts, they are alleged betrayal, abuse and isolation.
Futurism sent inquiries to both the TikTok accounts posting this material and the companies being advertised. The account linked to Zenit was deactivated shortly after that outreach.
Identifying himself as an independent developer named Pedro Pérez, Zenit’s developer said he ran the account himself, with “no third party of marketing agency” involved.
Pérez told Futurism: “I built Zenit to help people who struggle with overthinking, everyday stress or anxiety, or loneliness. The videos were based on realistic situations many people go through, with the goal of helping viewers feel understood and showing them a tool that could help them deal with those moments,” adding, “The visuals were AI-generated and the posts promoted my app, so they should have been labeled as such.”
According to Pérez, he first tried to apply disclosures in response to the inquiry, then deleted the account instead.
“After receiving your email, I tried to add TikTok’s AI-generated and commercial content labels, but the platform doesn’t allow adding them to videos that are already published, so I’ve deleted the account,” he said. “I think transparency matters, especially for a wellness app, which is why I’ve made this change.”
Following Futurism’s inquiries, all content also abruptly disappeared from the account promoting Daimon, and “Lauren<3” became “yooo.” The companion chatbot’s company, Prospinity, said it was “absolutely not operated by our internal marketing team, and the content was neither created nor approved by us.”
Prospinity’s response stated: “We’ve worked with external affiliate programs, and unfortunately, some affiliates were publishing content independently through accounts we didn’t directly manage. As soon as we became aware of this, we immediately looked into it, identified those responsible, and took action to shut down these activities,” the company said.
It continued: “This kind of content is completely against our guidelines and is absolutely not how we want Daimon to be represented. We’re a small team that genuinely cares about what we’re building, and we take how Daimon is represented very seriously. While this content wasn’t created or authorized by us, we recognize the importance of making sure anyone promoting Daimon follows our standards.”
Posting has continued on the accounts linked to Enzo and DreamMe, although the products being advertised have changed. In its latest post, the Enzo-promoting account pitched another app for tracking peptide consumption. Posts from the DreamMe account have instead promoted an app that locks phones.
The source publication received no response from either TikTok account. Questions emailed to the addresses on DreamMe’s website also went unanswered, and the email sent to Enzo was returned as undeliverable.
