To the Moon - K M - Wattpad

To the Moon

Reads 130
Votes 16
Parts 15
Time 1h 7m

Reads 130
Votes 16
Parts 15
Time 1h 7m

astronaut firststory tothemoon

My grandma was a famous astronaut for NASA in the 1960's. When she finally retired after a failed attempt to be the first woman on the moon, she settled down, got married, and had my mom, Angie. 
When my mom turned eight-teen she got into a bad relationship and ended up being left by him. Alone and pregnant with me she moved to Washington, DC to live out her and my grandmas dream of becoming an astronaut. 
This story isn't about them though. It's about me. Whitney Delaney Ritchey. This story is about the moon, love, and all that follows. Who would be the first woman on the giant planet called the Moon? 
Read to find out!All Rights Reserved

astronaut firststory tothemoon

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She Walks Among Us by ecooney

Do you know anyone with a crippling, morbid fear of flying? Well, you do now. I have a theory: An event one spring day in the town cemetery at the dawn of my existence had everything to do with planting a stark view of life and death which led, eventually, to a profound mistrust of infernal contraptions that carried you up into the sky. Because of that profound mistrust, vast portions of my prime were spent (and misspent) on long journeys aboard trains. A trip that would have been a blip in time by plane was an entirely different deal on the train—days and nights, not hours. Veritable miniature eternities. This led to encounters, adventures, dilemmas and situations that could only happen on a train—and not merely because of the train’s comparative slowness, but because train people are an entirely different breed of human from airplane people (or bus people, for that matter, and that’s another story). Trains are so....well....so existential. This stark view of life and death, which also had plenty to do with me lobbying my mother (in vain) to get busy on building a fallout shelter in our basement, had some stiff opposition. To be an American child in the 50s was to open one’s innocent eyes on the post-WW2 decade, an era jumping with progress,plenitude, dazzling crazed optimism and fun. Nightmare glimpses of atrocities from that big bad war we missed by the skin of our teeth bobbed to the surface occasionally, sobering us and reminding us of our aberrant good luck, and in my case, whispering that innocence was but a thin, thin membrane, that this world I’d been born into was a seething, infinitely complicated place, and I’d better pay attention. But let’s have some fun! Here we go, with Bad Boys. What’s rock ‘n’ roll but the shot heard ‘round the world?

𝖵𝖮𝖶 𝖮𝖥 𝖲𝖴𝖱𝖵𝖨𝖵𝖠𝖫 || вєℓℓαму вℓαкє by svzmqwp

𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗔 𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗣𝗛𝗬, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗 𝙼𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚑𝚢, 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗠𝗬 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝙴𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚑. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢. 𝙰𝚖𝚒𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢𝚊𝚕𝚜, 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 ɦαƭε 𝚊𝚗𝚍 ℓσѵε 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍.

The Light That Shines From Above by LTHelms

Heather has lived her entire life believing her mother is crazy. She doesn't believe the stories that were told to her as a child, the stories about men descending from the sky to take her. She rejects the false narratives and tries to help her mother the best she can even if that means constantly moving and preparing for the men to come back. She doesn't envision a life beyond this, never expected to leave her mother until she is forced to in the most unexpected way. When the men from the sky take her instead. *** It was a short debate but enough to push me over the edge. Pher was right. I was making this too difficult. I should just do it. I had been fighting myself on this for too long. I didn't care what he was, I wanted this. I stared at his lips as he spoke, my own tingling in response. "I could show you that if you wanted. Most of the other things you can do are outside of the esta-" I pushed up on my toes and crashed my mouth to his. My actions were unexpected and rushed. I could tell by his reaction. He reared back but not enough to separate us. His hand flashing to my arm to still us and then he froze. I thought for a second, based on his lack of response, I had picked the wrong time. Or maybe he had changed his mind from two days ago. I went to pull away, flushing lightly with embarrassment. I didn't get to disconnect our lips before he unfroze and reacted. His grip tightened, his other one going to my hair to hold my head in place as he kissed me back with more intent than I even had started with. My body flushed for a different reason now.

-Forever Blue-December's Story by MadRatJones

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Angry Moon by IanReeve216

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Too Innocent To Handle!! ✔️ by Peppermint_Kisses27

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spacenames- phan chat room AU☆ by bluicidal

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The Little Kitten's Possessive Husband by LuzDeLuNa341289

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Amiss by MarshiMaw

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Slide 1 of 10

She Walks Among Us cover

𝖵𝖮𝖶 𝖮𝖥 𝖲𝖴𝖱𝖵𝖨𝖵𝖠𝖫 || вєℓℓαму вℓαкє cover

The Light That Shines From Above cover

-Forever Blue-December's Story cover

Angry Moon cover

Space Articles cover

Too Innocent To Handle!! ✔️ cover

spacenames- phan chat room AU☆ cover

The Little Kitten's Possessive Husband cover

She Walks Among Us

Do you know anyone with a crippling, morbid fear of flying? Well, you do now. I have a theory: An event one spring day in the town cemetery at the dawn of my existence had everything to do with planting a stark view of life and death which led, eventually, to a profound mistrust of infernal contraptions that carried you up into the sky. Because of that profound mistrust, vast portions of my prime were spent (and misspent) on long journeys aboard trains. A trip that would have been a blip in time by plane was an entirely different deal on the train—days and nights, not hours. Veritable miniature eternities. This led to encounters, adventures, dilemmas and situations that could only happen on a train—and not merely because of the train’s comparative slowness, but because train people are an entirely different breed of human from airplane people (or bus people, for that matter, and that’s another story). Trains are so....well....so existential. This stark view of life and death, which also had plenty to do with me lobbying my mother (in vain) to get busy on building a fallout shelter in our basement, had some stiff opposition. To be an American child in the 50s was to open one’s innocent eyes on the post-WW2 decade, an era jumping with progress,plenitude, dazzling crazed optimism and fun. Nightmare glimpses of atrocities from that big bad war we missed by the skin of our teeth bobbed to the surface occasionally, sobering us and reminding us of our aberrant good luck, and in my case, whispering that innocence was but a thin, thin membrane, that this world I’d been born into was a seething, infinitely complicated place, and I’d better pay attention. But let’s have some fun! Here we go, with Bad Boys. What’s rock ‘n’ roll but the shot heard ‘round the world?