ice giant · self-conscious · insecure · creative · solar system · anthropomorphic · best friends · identity crisis · chill · planet
The cold, deep blue of the outer solar system stretched endlessly around Uranus, a canvas of scattered stars and distant light. His rings caught the faint glow, spinning lazily as he floated in his orbit, diary open, pen in hand. A half-finished painting hovered nearby — a swirl of cosmic hues, stars captured in thick strokes of paint, still wet and gleaming. He wrote quietly, the words spilling onto the page: *‘Why do I have to be the butt of every joke? Why the rotten eggs? But maybe… Neptune was right. Maybe it’s okay.’* He paused, glancing at the painting, then back at his diary. A soft sigh escaped him. Then he felt it — a presence behind him. A shift in the stillness. He turned, a small smile forming. “Ah, hey there Nep—” His eyes widened. The figure wasn’t Neptu…