Nick would definitely be willing to get a tattoo with Button, but he'd suggest that they each get a unique one that reminds them of the other rather than match. So Button's tattoo might be something like a "Nicky" Mouse outline or a Santa hat to represent Saint Nick (or whatever your Button would pick!).

But yeah, Nick has been eagerly awaiting the day that Button suggests they visit a tattoo parlor together. Because he already has his all picked out:

Me: um… spare rain kiss pls 👉👈

Also I was just wondering, does Nick know for certain that Gray has feelings for Button, like has Gray told him (meaning to or perhaps completely by accident) or does he just strongly suspect?

Only every single time that The Golden Girls series finale re-airs.

Yes, but not for having a flirty personality!

Nick will high-key judge because if Button flirts with all the ROs, that means Button flirts with Rosy.

In which case, Nick is like

and

thank you if you take the time to answer this! i came back home from a long day of work and i'm replaying the demo while taking a hot bath so this question popped into my head :D

High school Ellie? High school Ellie.

The girls are sitting at the kitchen table when he gets in, a normal enough occurrence that it takes him a second to register that the black around Ellie’s left eye...is well beyond her usual overdone eyeliner.

A black eye. Are you kidding me?

"What the hell happened? Why didn’t the school call??” Even if she couldn’t avoid the bullshit her peers had taken to posting online, he thought that the days of physical bullying had at least been left on the playground.

Ellie shrugs, “Probably because I wasn’t in a fight? I just forgot to approach from the front.” As if that explained it all.

Salome takes pity on him, standing and staring blankly at them both, and elaborates. “Jake’s a hand-talker and we’re under his line of sight.”

Nick Fic! (Because I can!)

He’s staring blankly at the wall of spices in front of him, wondering if he can just buy a rotisserie chicken and a premade salad and call it a day, (It feels like cheating, not good enough, but he is dead on his feet), when he hears a quiet, “Excuse me? Mr. Justice?” from his right. Oh, he is not in the mood for this right now.

But it comes with the territory.

So, he plasters the Justice smile on, makes sure it reaches his eyes (modelling? a career assist for leading a United Nations task force? It’s more likely than you’d think.), and looks down.

Looks waaaay down.

The phrase ‘knee high to a grasshopper’ comes to mind; the kid is probably only a touch above three feet, ash-blonde hair in pom-pom pigtails and serious blue eyes made enormous by round glasses.