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This has been the fate of literally every piece of scrap paper I get my hands on for the past half a year and this is not an exaggeration. There was actually a time a little more than a month ago when my car was littered with little scrap pictures of Emil that I'd doodled at work.

The only reason these scraps of paper are no longer in my car is that (a) I suddenly learned how to actually draw the kid right around that time so they all looked off-model and weird and (b) I was going to be having a friend over for a Nier marathon and I didn't want to spoil the very existence of No. 7 for her. That is how my mind works. My impetus to clean my car is that I don't want to leave completely context-free spoilers in the passenger door. What.

Also I upload some ten-minute doodles and then just ramble on and on about them and about nothing at all. And that is how my mind works.

(I dunno if this reads right or anything but Emil-on-the-left is meant to be coming off of a cry session -- can't imagine why he'd be doing that -- and wiping at his eyes. Which is 100% pointless given, you know, skeletons, but seems kind of instinctive, given that I'm sure he's not entirely used to not producing tears yet.
He looks so marvelously sad and pathetic when he's got his face buried in his scarf. My god I want to give him a hug.
All the hugs, actually.
All the hugs ever.)

Description
This has been the fate of literally every piece of scrap paper I get my hands on for the past half a year and this is not an exaggeration. There was actually a time a little more than a month ago when my car was littered with little scrap pictures of Emil that I'd doodled at work.

The only reason these scraps of paper are no longer in my car is that (a) I suddenly learned how to actually draw the kid right around that time so they all looked off-model and weird and (b) I was going to be having a friend over for a Nier marathon and I didn't want to spoil the very existence of No. 7 for her. That is how my mind works. My impetus to clean my car is that I don't want to leave completely context-free spoilers in the passenger door. What.

Also I upload some ten-minute doodles and then just ramble on and on about them and about nothing at all. And that is how my mind works.

(I dunno if this reads right or anything but Emil-on-the-left is meant to be coming off of a cry session -- can't imagine why he'd be doing that -- and wiping at his eyes. Which is 100% pointless given, you know, skeletons, but seems kind of instinctive, given that I'm sure he's not entirely used to not producing tears yet.
He looks so marvelously sad and pathetic when he's got his face buried in his scarf. My god I want to give him a hug.
All the hugs, actually.
All the hugs ever.)