Title: anything for you, dear
Pairing: Tokka
Summary: In which, due to a misunderstanding, Sokka gets a tattoo. And may have to endure more needle-related experiences in the near future. Tokka CrackFic.
A/N: Well, this sucks, doesn't it? OOCness galore :D Hope you like it, though. T'was fun to write XD

This was it.

This was really it.

Was this really it?

Glancing nervously at the assortment of needles resting on the grubby table beside him, Sokka gulped and pressed harder against the back of the chair.

Yes, Sokka reassured himself. It was.

His eyes wandered over to Aang as the airbender chatted animatedly with the sole employee in the dingy shop, sharing some of his own experiences with the coming experience.

Sokka winced. He specifically noticed that "pain" and "agonizing" seemed to be on Aang's list of top three words.

Their conversation walked and, slowly, the dirty, middle-aged man limped over, a wicked grin smeared across his face. Oh no. Sokka had a feeling that this was going to be painful.

By the time the older man had sat down beside him, and slowly began to disinfect his needles, sweat was pouring down Sokka's face. The sacrifices he made for love…

This was it.

This was really it.

Was this really it?

Oh yes it was. Sokka had come this far, and he was going through with it. Sokka of the Water Tribe, official boyfriend of Toph Bei Fong, was going to get a….

…tattoo.

…..Oops.

anything for you, dear

"...Huh. Your level of devotion is appreciated."

"Hey! I think I deserve a little more thanks than that! I bled for you!"

"Hn. As if I care."

As the needle drew closer, Sokka decided to try and figure out remotely how this had happened.

It all came down to Toph, in the end. Or, rather, the beginning.

Although, really, in Sokka's life, most things did.

And, he decided, peeking one eye open to watch the needle draw closer, he really, needed one of those freaky rippling flashback thingies right now.

One of Those Freaky Rippling Flashback Thingies

"Glad that's over. I was afraid they were gonna start makin' out on us. Tch. I could nearly picture the goo-goo eyes."

"Yeah. You know, sometimes, I—" dramatic sigh—"pity him. He must look so…diminished, in the face of my incredible good looks. Whew. I hate to admit it, but I'm really glad I wasn't born an airbender. First off, I mean, no meat! How could I survive?! And then…the tattoos."

A doubtful nose-wrinkle. "And don't even get me started on their lack of super-manly facial hair. Which, of course only contributes to my own good looks." A smug smirk spread across his features, followed by a sarcastic rebuttal:

"Oh, yeah, Snoozles. You're so handsome; Prince Charming would hide his face in a paper bag."

"Why, thank you, I am aren't I—….I hate it when you do that."

"I try."

"Well, actually, I've kinda grown to expect it. Reliability, you know."

"Glad to help….Wait, what the hell?! What do you got against tattoos, huh?" Toph demanded furiously.

Sokka regarded her nervously. "Err…nothing…" His voice rose in pitch several octaves as he managed fearfully, "You have such…beautiful eyes…."

"Hmph." She snorted, and shook her bangs in front of her eyes to conceal a blush. Toph always blushed when Sokka complimented her—however the circumstances—and probably always would. "Tattoos are hot, Snoozles. Remember that. In fact…" Here, something about 'wimpy little boyfriends' and 'low pain endurance was muttered. "Hot, Snoozles. Just remember that one thing for me, okay?"

"So…does that mean you'd go for Aang?" Sokka asked in feigned causality, an eyebrow raised at her, in order to, perhaps, conceal his new-born inner turmoil (not that it worked).

Toph snorted into her tea. "As if. Ha! Wimp. Like I could ever survive for long than two minutes with such a pansy-ass kid."

Sokka attempted to reassure himself that yeah, duh, Aang was nowhere near his level of hotness, so he shouldn't even be worried, right?

But the seed of doubt had already taken place.

And it grew.

And grew.

And grew.

Until, actually, is resembled a plant not entirely unlike that found in the fairy tale story most call Jack and the Beanstalk. (Sokka heard it slightly different, in his day: Great, Manly Hakoda and the Stupid Dumb Hook that Made a Crack-in-The-Ice and Got a Giant Penguin-Fish in It—Err, Leopard-Seal Man and the Fishing Hole of DOOM. To say the least, in recent years it had suffered some minor modifications.)

It had been two days since what Sokka had dubbed the "tattoo incident."

Two days of anticipation, horror, and above all, the overwhelming urge to crawl to someone and whine. But, of course, Toph was usually the one to put up with that, so Sokka chose the next best option: Zuko.

Which was why he was here.

At a gay bar that he'd convinced Zuko to eat at.

Mostly because he wanted a random dude to come up, start making out with the Crown Prince, and start an international scandal. (It hadn't worked yet, but Sokka still clung to his feeble hopes.)

"She's probably gonna leave me for mustache man," Sokka grumbled into his beer, as that bastard—hem, Sokka's lovable friend—Zuko stared on in exasperation.

"Haru," he said slowly, massaging his temples, "Does not have a tattoo, Sokka."

As was a habit of his, Sokka ignored him. "Do you think a boomerang could decapitate someone?" he mused, before quickly caressing his boomerang gently and soothing, "There, there, boomerang. I still have faith in you."

Zuko let out a loud, exasperated sigh and attempted to ignore Sokka's existence as a whole, as was a habit of his. "You'll be fine."

"Or will I?" Sokka wondered dramatically.

Ah, the woes of love.

Now if only he could convince Zuko to grab that one guys ass...

"Sokka," Zuko interrupted Sokka from his daydream, annoyed, "Why don't you just get a tattoo yourself?"

He stared at him, before brightening up a bit. "Hey, I know! Why don't I get a tattoo myself?"

As Sokka created an elaborate, diabolical, and very unnecessary scheme to win back his One True Love, Zuko entertained himself with banging his head against the wall.

"Aang?" Sokka asked slowly, a devious plan forming in his mind as he observed the young Avatar's acclaimed 'hot' arrows.

"Yeah, Sokka, old buddy old pal?" Aang grinned back happily. He was getting laid tonight.

"Let's do something stupid. I'd like that," Sokka proposed. Simply, to the chase. But, hey, he was desperate. In times like these.

"Well…" Aang hesitated.

"Hey, it'll be just like old times," the warrior prompted, knowing he was going for a soft spot.

"Err…But Katara—" he pointed out nervously.

"Hey, Aang. You get laid every other night, right?" Sokka inquired.

The airbender eyed him nervously. "Maybe."

Sokka took it as a 'yes.' "Then of course she's not gonna get mad at you! Hell, no! I mean, who would she shag then?"

More than a bit disturbed by Sokka's sudden lack of over protectiveness, Aang agreed reluctantly, "I guess so…"

Sokka paused dramatically. "You know…"

"What?" Aang asked eagerly, having seen the light in Sokka's all knowing wisdom of the Facts of Getting Laid.

"No, no, it's too stupid," he waved him off, as planned. Sokka could be manipulative when he wanted to.

"Tell me," Aang demanded.

Sokka sighed, defeated. "Weeelll…." He drew out the word. Taking a deep breath, Sokka pointed straight at Aang's forehead. "Those."

For a moment, a confused look passed over the Avatar's face. "My tattoos?"

"Yes."

He paused. "Sure that's stupid enough for you?"

"Hell yeah!" Sokka replied, despite the ominous feeling curdling in his stomach. For all was not as it seemed. And tattoos—

Well. It seemed they were a lot scarier than they appeared.

End One of Those Freaky Rippling Flashback Thingies.

Which brought him here.

To the tattoo parlor.

And about to experience hell. Well, for the his One True Love, of course. Which did make it slightly more bearable.

...Kinda.

Sokka closed his eyes, and imagined how Toph would accept him when he got home. He could just picture the utter love on her face...

"Oh, Sokka! You lovable moron! You're hotness, manliness, and sexiness is all too over overpowering! Take me now!"

Oh, how wonderful it would be! How gratifying! How exuberating!

How utterly impossible!

Concealing a whimper, Sokka pressed all the harder against the hard back of the chair. He had to do this...for Toph.

Yeah. For Toph. Right.

The tattoo-artist slowly sat down in a chair parallel to his, and grinned crookedly. "So, what design would you be wantin'?" He winked heavily, and Sokka silently wondered how long the torment would go one. Not another guy hitting on him!

Tch. Next time, Toph would explode.

"Well," he cleared his throat, and tried to look impressive by puffing out his chest (the tattoo artist took it the wrong way, and never got the chance to sate his...err...curiosity), "I was think...'Sokka' in blue flames?"

The other man grinned. "Sure. I'll just be startin'..." Slowly, painstakingly, he swabbed Sokka's shoulder with alcohol. As the warrior flinched, he rolled his eyes. Why did the newbies always get so damn scared? "Don't be worryin' yerself," he told him, obviously exasperated. "The real pain doesn't start till after the needles, ya hear?"

Sokka paled.

Alcohol was consumed.

Oaths were uttered.

Blood was spilled.

And above all...

Sokka's hotness was acquired, and freaking unbeatable.

Staring proudly tattoo, Sokka remembered with a shudder the hours of pain he had just been forced to endure. Ah, the sacrifices made for love.

But there was only one more step, that through the door. And then...

Oh yeah. Sex galore.

Taking a deep breath, Sokka stepped over the doorway...

And was immediately disappointed by the lack of response. Toph didn't even look up (not that she could) from her spot curled up on the couch, only muttered an unconcerned, "Oh, it's you."

Now, Sokka was more than a bit offended. So, walking over, he plopped down beside her and hinted, "I got something for you."

She perked up. "You mean those chocolate-flavored condoms I've been wanting?"

Sokka frowned. "No. It's not manly." His face composition aprubtly changed into one of accusation. "You said you wanted one."

"What?" Toph seemed truly perplexed.

He sighed loudly. "I got a tattoo!"

"Oh."

There was a long pause. Then, a slow, and partially annoyed, partially gleeful, "You do realize that I was joking, right?"

Sokka gaped at her. "What?"

She snickered. "Yeah, hello." Waving her hand in front of her eyes, she pointed out obviously, "Blind."

Shock flickered across his face. "You mean—that was all?—but—I screamed—still—for nothing?" he spluttered indignantly.

His girlfriend shrugged. "Pretty much." After a moment of still-stunned silence, a plan began to form in the depths of her manipulating mind. "Hey," she said innocently, "You know, in all honestly, tattoos suck."

Sokka whimpered. Why, oh why?

As Toph attempted to conceal a sinister smile, an ominous feeling curdled in the bit of Sokka's stomach.

"Of course," Toph added, cackling to herself and allowing a slow smirk spreading across her face, "piercings are never out of the question."

Toph deviated.

Sokka despaired.