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#telekinesis
prinnay · 2 months
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Telekinesis
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cadathecat · 10 months
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don't touch the spring..
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i'm honing my telekinetic powers..
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*hhhmmmmmpphh*
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sagradofemenin0 · 9 months
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Sissy Spacek photographed by Marv Newton on the set of "Carrie", 1976
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luxja · 9 months
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batgirlballs · 11 months
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Psychic Girls <3
Psychic girls who send you dirty thoughts at inappropriate times to make you squirm. <3 Psychic girls who restrain you down with telekinesis when you’re being bratty. <3 Psychic girls who use illusions to enhance the experience. <3 Psychic girls who use their future sight to prepare for what you’re gonna want her to do to you next. <3 Psychic girls who mind meld with you in the aftercare. <3
Feel free to add your own ideas to what psychic girls could do to you in the tags! :3
This is about gayass transass sex, cishets, please ignore.
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hollyhousen · 1 year
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A reminder that Danny Phantom canonically has telekinesis and is shown using it exactly once to throw a rake at the Box Ghost
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one-time-i-dreamt · 1 year
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I had telekinesis but no one beloved me. I would slam shut doors and move around stuff and everyone said it was the wind. I picked a dude up and floated him above everyone and they were all like, “Dang sure is hecking wimdy today.”
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bricktoygrapher · 2 months
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Sunday funday 👽
E.T. the Extra Terrestrial by Neca.
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canadaloveselenasblog · 3 months
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One of my favorite Horror movie carrie
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fanyyy444 · 1 month
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We could be becoming masters of telekinesis, hydrokinesis, pyrokinesis, aerokinesis, electrokinesis and other powers...But you've chosen to manifest a boyfriend or good grades instead😔🤙🏻💔
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* sad manifestor mode activated *
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stonedrunkwizard · 4 months
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Esper pinup.
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atomic-chronoscaph · 10 months
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Carrie (1976)
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mirkokosmos · 11 months
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by Mirko Lalit Egger
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simply-whump · 9 months
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The Uncanny Counter 2: Counter Punch : Episode 4
>> Whump List
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scaryspears · 3 months
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Earth 42 Miles x Telekinetic Autistic (Black) Reader
Notes: The Reader was inspired by Carrie. Why? I wanted to do a black reader with super powers, but I didn't want to write her like other black readers have been written with 42 Miles. I just can't relate with how they speak or the situations. This isn't to say she will be a sweet, precious thing, just odd.
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You had a bunch of issues. First, you were a target for harassment, verbal most of the time. Vandalism was rare, but it did often happen. Your locker would be painted with unkind words, and a pencil would be missing from your pencil case and you could never point out who took it but you always had a suspicion. It wasn't too bad, depending on who you compared yourself to, but it still hurt. It was still bothersome.
You had to wonder what made you such a great and easy target in the first place. Your habit of wearing the same clothes everyday, sleeping in class, and taking things too literal. Even worse, you were too gullible. A genius would've just said these were your autistic traits, but too bad you didn't know that at the time. The many times you attempted to be different didn't work out, always setting a standard. So you gave up, counting the days until graduation. Hoping that it would come sooner than expected.
There was only one worthwhile thing in school and that was art class. Not too many people present. You weren't amazing with drawing or art in general, fairly decent, but it was the only class with any peace in it. The least judgemental lesson. In every art class you sat behind Miles Morales, and you would find yourself staring at his back. At his pretty braids.
You always liked boys with long hair, and Miles was no different. This day was no different, quiet as always and slow. It would be most preferable if you didn't make your crush obvious.
"Are you going to keep staring at me or are you gonna look away?" You heard him speak. He didn't even have to look over his shoulder.
You blinked hard, "Hmm?"
"You're staring. Stop." he didn't sound angry from what you could hear, but his tone wasn't pleasant either.
You immediately did as he asked. You tried to focus on your sketches, drawing pictures of magical girls from your favourite childhood cartoons, then drawings of more serious things. The Prowler had been on the news again, reporters painting him in good and bad light. He saved two teenagers from a burning building, others say he caused the fire. But teenagers always did stupid things, and you would know from being one. Just thinking about it made the windows crack a little.
"Look at the windows!" one of the boys spoke, pointing.
Everyone else, except Miles, either got up to have a closer look or sat in wonderment from their seat. You feigned surprise as best as you could, you've long since learned that you weren't good at faking expressions. The teacher ordered everyone to start packing up, safety being the number one priority. There was no reason for the windows to break by themselves, and you contemplated if you should stop.
As you stared at the window you slowly started packing your equipment, watching the cracks reach the corners and edge until every single one of them smashed entirely. It was like lifting an eyebrow, some could do it naturally and others couldn't.
"Alright, everyone out!" the teacher called.
Your classmates were already rushing out of the room, but only Miles remained sitting while you stood looking at the broken glass on the ground.
"[LN], Morales! Time to go!" the teacher called.
You left the room, but halfway through the door you heard Miles say behind you, "Serena had a party last night."
You started fiddling with your top, dreading what he would say. "Okay."
"What were you doing that night?" he asked coolly.
That party. That damned party.
"I got invited, and then I left." that was the truth.
"So you weren't there, when Jordan..." he grabbed your arm, "Threw his drink at you."
That's not all that happened. They threw food at you, and your clothes became stained. You dressed special for that day, hopeful, unfortunately expectant.
"I..." you tried to pull your arm away.
"How did that fire happen?" he turned you to face him. You averted your eyes. Miles' eyes were beautiful but the way they bore into your soul was most unkind.
You had heard that artists were weird. They either did weird things or had something weird about them. Maybe this was another occasion. You tried to forget about these powers. Even though you have embraced that there was something wrong strange about you.... you couldn't help the need to be decently normal deep down. Now these powers just had to bite at your behind.
"What fire?"
"Don't play stupid, you've seen the news. Serena and Jordan are now in the hospital, the others might still be in a coma."
"How is that my problem?" you asked, your cruel side demanding attention.
Miles was mildly impressed with your response, the grip on your arm loosening. "It isn't," he admitted, "I just know the fire wasn't natural."
"I don't know what happened to them."
He let go of your arm, "Fine."
You walked away.
If you ever wanted to grab the attention of Miles Morales, you didn't want to grab it like this. You weren't sure if your classmate suspecting you of arson should be something to worry about.
"I can't blame her if she did do it, I mean I don't think I should go around killing my classmates, but can you believe they decided to live stream it?" Miles removed the screwdriver from his claw.
Miles' uncle, Aaron, sighed, "Kids as old as you run wild, boys most of all. Girls are different, they go out of their way to plan stuff. I don't know what to tell you."
"I worry about her, tio. She really didn't do anything to... warrant that behaviour."
This, Aaron knew what to say to. "Sometimes people don't need a reason to do something, they'll just do it. That hazing thing was a classic example of that." he tossed a drill to Miles, "Was there a chance she got any clue what they were planning?"
Miles shook his head aggressively, "I don't think she understands basic human interactions even if she tried, I've seen how she is. All they did was smile in her face when they invited her. Smiles are a good thing, and it takes her a while to pick up on the fact that she's getting made fun of."
"Look out for her, then. If she really has something to do with that fire like you suspect, then this could turn bad. Women can be crazy, Miles."
"Okay. I will, tio."
Some days passed since the minor interrogation with Miles, and though he seemed to pretend you no longer existed, you could feel his eyes on you. You tried to be on your best behaviour, and you've had better control of your powers ever since he brought up the incident. You didn't want to be suspected of a single crime.
Upon this suspect-tion came sleepless night, which led to sleeping in class.
"[Name]." sounded faint, like the screams that only felt regret from fear and not guilt.
"[Name]." it was louder this time. A warning for your attention. You search through the heat for where it was coming from.
"[Name.]" This time there was no mistaking it, this voice was not from the dream.
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Wherever you were, there was no escaping that fire. Although you had gotten so used to the dreams, you couldn't help your eyes tearing up. You made sure to turn your face away from whoever had shook your shoulder.
You weren't sad or scared, but you couldn't help it. Something about being unable to regulate your emotions.
"[Name.]" the person hadn't left, and now that you were no longer as sleepy you recognised whose voice it was.
"Hey, Miles."
"Hey." he greeted.
He hadn't moved back to his seat, so you looked up to his face, waiting for him to potentially say more, this time not averting your eyes.
He did have more to say, "You're a Tokyo Mew Mew fan." he looked down at your sketchbook, which was still open.
You quickly covered it with your arms, glaring at him. Daring him to say something about your long lasting interest.
"I'm going comic con this Saturday. Do you wanna come?"
His face, and his eyes, were kind. But you couldn't help suspiciously being on edge.
"I don't know." left your lips quicker than it usually did.
He didn't appear disappointed, judging by the lack of expression on his face. He glanced to the side, "Class finished five minutes ago, by the way."
So that's why it was so quiet.
"Can I walk you to lunch?"
Yes. No. What was the correct answer?
"I don't know." you couldn't come up with a better response.
For whatever reason he smiled, or smirked(?). For better or for worse.
"Come on, I'll make sure you get there safely."
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Feeling cute, might do a part 2.
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