Alex discovers his power

Alex shuffled into the kitchen, the faint scent of pancakes still lingering in the air. His eyes scanned the room lazily, taking in the tidy counters and the soft morning light filtering through the window. His mom and sister always kept the place spotless, a sharp contrast to the chaos of his bedroom. He grunted, feeling a twinge of irritation at their relentless tidiness.

A plate of pancakes sat on the counter, neatly arranged with a fork placed beside it. His mom’s effort, no doubt. Alex grabbed the fork and poked at the pancakes, noting that they were cold. “Dumb bitch can’t even remember to leave out the syrup,” he muttered under his breath, his voice filled with disdain. “I guess I have to do everything myself.”

He opened the fridge, rummaging through it with little regard for the order his mom meticulously maintained. Bottles clinked together as he shoved them aside, searching for the syrup. Finally finding it buried behind a carton of milk, he snatched it up and poured a generous amount over the pancakes, watching the amber liquid pool and soak into the stack. A bit of the syrup spilled over the side of the plate which left a sticky residue on the table, but he paid it no mind.

Plopping down at the table, Alex began to dig in, his fork cutting through the now-syrupy pancakes. He ate quickly, shoveling the food into his mouth with little appreciation for the taste. His mind was focused on more important things - namely the slew of sexy influencers on his Instagram feed.

Finishing his meal, Alex pushed the plate away. Briefly, he considered putting it in the sink, but quickly shook away the thought. Why do it now? And if he forgot, it was no big deal. His clean freak of a mom and sister would get around to it eventually. Besides, whenever he tried to clean, they still gave him an earful about how it "wasn't clean enough." Why bother if it wasn't going to be good enough for their ridiculous standards anyway?

He stood up, stretching again, and glanced at the clock. It was almost 11 AM. His mom had left for work 4 hours ago, and his sister would now be at the local community college. He would be alone for the rest of the afternoon and the condo would be blissfully quiet, just the way he liked it.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Alex thought about what he should do for the rest of the day. If it were up to his mom, he would probably be looking for employment somewhere. To her credit, Alex had promised her that he would put in more effort, _but_ he had been searching hard lately - he spent half an hour looking for work on Reddit last night.

Shaking his head, he decided to treat himself to some TV instead. His mom didn't understand how hard it was out there. Besides, the job market was tough right now, and it didn't help that she was always on his case. Some relaxation would put him in the right mindset for his job hunt.

With a sigh, he grabbed the remote and plopped down on the couch, flipping through channels aimlessly. The morning slipped away as he immersed himself in the comforting glow of the television. Show after show, his attention waned, and soon, his thoughts drifted to the actresses on the screen. He wasted the next few hours watching and fantasizing, occasionally masturbating to the sight of beautiful women, only pausing to grab some leftovers for lunch from the fridge.

He didn't bother heating the food; he just ate it cold, leaving some more crumbs scattered across the kitchen table. The mess didn't faze him. Someone else would clean it up later. Satisfied, he returned to his spot on the couch, resuming his marathon of mindless entertainment.

As Alex sat on the couch, he watched celebrities walk onto the stage one by one. Scarlett Johansson was the first to capture his attention, her tits perfectly accentuated by a sleek black gown that hugged her curves. The deep neckline left little left to imagine, and Alex couldn't tear his eyes away from the way her cleavage bounced slightly with each step.

Next came Zendaya, her dress daringly elegant yet somehow still revealing enough to stir Alex's interest. The high slit showed off her long, toned legs, and distracted from her flat chest. The way the fabric clung to her ass as she moved made Alex lick his lips subconsciously. He imagined his hands tracing those curves, feeling the smooth, ethnic skin beneath.

Margot Robbie followed, her glittering ensemble catching the light and highlighting every contour of her body. Alex's gaze lingered on her round ass, which the dress seemed to sculpt perfectly. The way it swayed as she walked left him fantasizing about the feel of her firm yet supple flesh.

Then, Emily Ratajkowski stepped onto the stage. Alex's eyes were immediately drawn to her breasts, which seemed even more prominent than usual. They were framed perfectly by her outfit, her nipples subtly visible through the thin strands of what he initially thought was some avant-garde designer fabric. He was entranced, his mind barely registering anything else as he stared, lost in lust.

It wasn't until the announcer spoke that Alex snapped out of his trance. "Emily, I hear you’ll be one of the hosts this evening. You look incredible tonight! What exactly are you wearing?"

Emily smiled, her expression confident and playful. "Thank you! This dress was inspired by the spaghetti bikini I wore at the Milan Fashion Week that first got me famous. It's a bit of a throwback."

Alex blinked, his focus shifting from her tits to the rest of her outfit. The strands weren't fabric at all—they were noodles. Spaghetti, meticulously arranged to cover just enough to be legal but still leave plenty on display. The noodles crisscrossed her body, some parts hanging loosely while others clung tightly, highlighting her curves. Her tits, though still the main attraction, were framed by the spaghetti in a way that seemed both absurd and erotically tantalizing.

The outfit left small gaps, revealing glimpses of her toned stomach and hips. The spaghetti strands wove together around her ass, leaving parts of her skin visible in an almost teasing manner. Each step shifted her dress slightly, and the pasta top wiggled just enough to give a glimpse of her sideboob, which sent a thrill through Alex. He was mesmerized by the combination of her natural beauty and the absurdity of her outfit.

His heart raced as he watched her on stage, accepting her award with poise. The audience's applause echoed through the room, but all Alex could think about how outrageous this situation was. His random, absurd edit had not only stayed on Wikipedia as a prank—it had somehow manifested into reality?

As the show continued, Alex sat back, his mind reeling. Could this really be his doing? The idea seemed ridiculous. How could a simple change to a random Wiki article become true? He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. It had to be a coincidence, right? Maybe she had worn something similar before, and he just didn't remember.

But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he was certain. Emily Ratajkowski had never worn spaghetti before. He'd masturbated to her pictures countless times. If she had worn something this revealing before, he would definitely have cum to a picture of it already.

His thoughts spun round and round, denying the possibility, then entertaining it again, only to reject it once more. It was impossible. And yet, there she was, in front of millions, wearing a dress made of pasta.

Somehow, it didn’t even look that bad…

Eventually, the denial gave way to a creeping certainty. The specifics of her outfit, the way it was described on Wikipedia, and the way it looked now—there was no mistaking it.

This was his doing.

He looked back at the TV, where Emily was now laughing with the host, her spaghetti dress swaying slightly with her movements. This was real. He had made this happen. The possibilities were endless, and as he thought about the potential of his newfound power, a slow, wicked grin spread across his face.

The world had just become his playground, and he couldn't wait to see what else he could change.