Phoenix Wright:
"Nice artwork, (y/n)," Phoenix says, sitting next to you. Work had been stressing you out lately, so you got out your cheap watercolors and started fingerpainting. "I can't quite tell if that's a flower or the Statue of Liberty, but I like it. Mind if I join you?" After you nod, he sits next to you, putting a finger in your water cup, rubbing some paint on it, and painting your cheek.
Dramatically gasping and wiping it off, you look over at him. "This is war."
Miles Edgeworth:
"Why don't you try making this part a little darker?" He points to a petal of the detailed rose you were painting. Mixing some black acrylic into the red on your little plate, you shaded the part he had indicated. He takes a step back, admiring your work. "Beautiful and talented...what would I ever do without you?" He smirks, walking out of the room, leaving you a flustered mess.
Apollo Justice:
"Wait, you're telling me you wrote this? It looks like you just printed it!" Apollo stared at a quote you just wrote before you offer to show him how you did it. Nodding enthusiastically, he sits down next to you at your desk. Putting your fountain pen to the cardstock, you patiently wrote one of your favorite quotes. "How long have you been doing this? It's amazing!"
Klavier Gavin:
"Hey, babe, what're you—" he sees you sitting at the table, both earbuds in, drawing something. Carefully, he walks toward you, peering over your shoulder. You were drawing a picture of him with charcoal pencils. While Klavier was watching you work, you suddenly stop, causing him to hold his breath. After looking at the drawing for a minute or so, you smudge one last line before putting the piece in your portfolio. Klavier slipped out of the room, and he never brought up what he saw to you. It was his little secret.
Kristoph Gavin:
You had been bored out of your mind for the past few days what with work being slow and Kristoph constantly in his office working, so you decided to do something you used to love.
Pulling the needle through the fabric one last time, the pillowcase you were hand sewing was finally completed. It had taken the majority of the day, but it was a cute pattern and you thought it turned out well, even with your lack of practice.
"I must say, that looks quite nice, (y/n)." You look up from your stitching to see Kristoph in the doorway to your shared bedroom, his lips curled in a smile. "I never knew you were interested in activities like this. It'll be rather useful." He suddenly makes an exit, leaving you in a pile of sewing materials.
Simon Blackquill:
"Hey, hey, hey, they are not that dark!" He told you, sitting next to you and watching you draw. This particular drawing happened to be a portrait of him, and he sat down just as you started shading the bags under his eyes.
"Is that so?" You hold the value scale up to his face, trying to find what shade of black matched up to his under eyes. "They're at least a value 5." Getting back to shading, you grab an even darker pencil, listening to the sound of Blackquill's grumbling.