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Pregnant in the Apocalypse: Every Big Shot Wants to Be the Dad

Fei Mu
Josie Quinn is reborn. Between her scumbag ex and upgrading her powers, she decisively ditches her romantic delusions and chooses to get close to others to become stronger! She had planned to fake her death, run away, and live a carefree life, but who knew that upon opening her eyes, she'd find herself "thoughtfully" locked in a future powerhouse's room by Alice Sullivan. In her past life, she was so scared she cowered in a corner. This life, she locks the door from the inside: "Thanks, I'll take this assist!" After Josie Quinn discovers that intimate contact with the powerful can accelerate the awakening of her abilities, she completely lets herself go, activating her "Apocalyptic Player" mode: A kiss from the gentlemanly scoundrel professor, and her powers shoot up! A hug from the deranged mercenary king, and her combat power soars! Even that mysterious, high-level psychic is teased by her until his ears turn red: "Josie Quinn... are you sure this is for upgrading?" Later— Landon Hughes awakens his past life's memories. Realizing he wrongly trusted another and caused the death of the woman he loved most, he kneels and begs for forgiveness with reddened eyes: "Cece, I was wrong, please give me one more chance..." Before Josie Quinn can even speak, several powerhouses behind her sneer in unison. Landon Hughes is sent flying with a kick. A certain mercenary leisurely wipes his hands: "Crematorium? I'll scatter your ashes for you." Later still, Alice Sullivan cries her eyes out: "Josie, I shouldn't have harmed you back then..." Josie Quinn hands her a script with a beaming smile: "Don't worry, I've arranged your center-stage zombie role for you~" #TheFakeDeath, TheRealThrillIs #AQuickCuddleIsNice, ButConstantCuddlesAreNicer #CremateTheEx? RememberToSortTheTrashAfterward.
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Marvel: God of Spotlight, The Homelander

"I am not Superman. I am Homelander." The whisper was an internal prayer, a caustic reassurance. Outside the glass tower, the world saw only the Homelander, the Icon, the Man Who Flew the Bomb. They saw the perfect, smiling face of the hero who, in the chaos of the Battle of New York, carried a nuclear warhead through the wormhole and saved a city. The cheers from the streets below—the deafening, worldwide adoration—were the fuel for his ascension. He was crowned their king, a savior in star-spangled spandex. In this new reality, fame wasn't just influence; it was power. He had a system now: the Superstar System. The higher the popularity, the stronger the abilities. It was a viciously simple contract, one he embraced completely. "Matt," he purred into the spotlight, curing the blind lawyer's eyes on live television. "Your city needs an icon, not a devil. Let the light in." He assembled his own team—a perfectly marketed, perfectly managed Super Seven—with Spider-Man now running PR and Daredevil as his reformed protégé. Every action was a performance; every enemy, a prop. When the news of a purple alien named Thanos reached his gilded penthouse, Azu smiled, a blinding, dangerous flash for the cameras. "Thanos," he murmured, the adoration of billions surging through his veins, making his skin feel like charged steel. His eyes flared with a dazzling red light that promised annihilation. "I heard you're going to wipe out half of my fans?" He was trapped in the Marvel universe, now its most powerful celebrity. And the show had only just begun.
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