Astroid started as a piece of paper, a pencil, and a kid with very specific ideas about how a Shiba Inu should look in a SpaceX helmet.

Liv drew this Shiba Inu in a SpaceX helmet. She labeled it carefully: “fur in ears must be very fluffy,” “I want a visor on the helmet,” a name patch reading Astroid, and a small mission logo patch on the chest. She signed it at the bottom.
That's the whole brand brief. Everything else — the website, the sky of stars, the typography, the tone of voice — flows from those notes.
Astroid isn't a typo of asteroid. It's the actual word astroid, from Greek ἀστήρ (star) + -οειδής (-like). It means starlike.
That's why this site is built around a sky of stars instead of a belt of rocks. We're not the asteroid plushie, we're not Asteroid Protocol, we're not any of the asteroid memecoins. We share the sky with them — and we point our friends at them on the Friends page.
Meme coins typically have no real utility. We wanted to change the default. What if the trading activity that naturally happens around a meme coin were wired, at the source, to do real-world good?
So we wired one simple utility lane into the project:
Verify the live wallet balance, see the recipient details, or nominate a charity on the Charity page.
Astroid is not affiliated with, endorsed by, or partnered with St. Jude or ALSAC. We do not solicit donations on their behalf.
We needed kid-friendly things for the site to do— things that weren't a chart or a buy button. So:
All free. Sign your name or leave it blank — your call. The naming, the wish, and the coloring all stay forever — the project is the artifact people leave behind.
Liv is a kid. She likes Shiba Inus and SpaceX. She wanted Astroid to exist, so we made it. Her drawing is her own work. Everything you see here is in service of her character.
Name a star. It's free. It takes one minute. You get a certificate.