One Piece Tashigi - Tumblr Posts

assorted smoker headcanons

because i'm in love with him (feel free to reblog & add! i need more smoker lovers!)

- born & raised in loguetown, as a kid when he saw roger's execution he originally dreamed of becoming a pirate. however, with the influx of pirates in loguetown in the years after, he watched criminals desecrate his home city, and grew resentful, and so became a marine instead (and over the years lost faith in "good" pirates ever existing)

- isn't very sentimental, but did request the loguetown position for the satisfaction of cleaning the place up himself.

- has two parents alive and well in loguetown, doesn't talk to them much bc he's always busy and then fucks off to the grand line, but they're on good terms.

- i know the dudebros may come for me for this one, but smoker could easily be a bajillion times more deadly than he is (lots of ppl point out he could suffocate people from the inside out or other crazy shit w smoke) but chooses not to. chooses not to be that gruesome. smoke is not naturally offensive, and as he uses it it's only a deterrent to enemies or supplement to his own strength. he refuses to partake in the much more violent capabilities in part because he feels that's what distinguishes him from pirates.

- comes off as cranky, but he just has a love-hate relationship with his job.

- would never say it aloud, but considers tashigi an almost daughter-esque figure. he tries his best for her as both a teacher and colleague, but in the end they really only have each other and have only had each other for years; emotional support and knowing is a given at this point. he doesn't claim to "raise" her, but sometimes it feels a bit like he has.

- that being said, only tashigi is allowed to know his birthday or get him gifts. he usually tries to return the favor for her birthday and one or two major holidays.

- likes to make little rock cairns (like his stack when he's first introduced) on islands they go to. only if he has time and space for it.

- enjoys the sound of water, strangely enough. it's calming and soothes his senses (maybe that's the DF talking?) likes waves, rain, the sound of running water, etc.

- originally planned to be a navigator! he has an excellent sense of direction (thanks to his canonically excellent memory) and was planning to become a navigator as a kid (either for pirates or others)

- still likes to navigate by himself occasionally as commodore/vice admiral, and has gotten his ships out of some crazy weather patterns

- very pretty brown, dark tree bark brown, sunlight through a glass of rum brown, eyes.

- his hair is naturally all white (probs an inherited trait), but he's never met someone who also has naturally white hair

- not very fond of physical touch (except with an S/O that likely has to start small) but is accustomed to people invading his space for good or bad reasons (good reason: tashigi grabbing him for something) (bad reason: anything else)

- that said, he's not fond of PLATONIC physical touch, so if it was romantically intended he's more open to it, but still takes a long time to get accustomed.

- unorthodox cuddling positions.

- probably has a bajillion sleeping disorders so he never sleeps regular hours. but reluctant to take any kind of supplements or medication because he needs to be alert and ready to wake up at a moment's notice, and the one time he tried something like melatonin it knocked him out for 16hrs.

- doesn't laugh often, chuckles a lot, but his laugh is probably a solid belly laugh accompanied by a hand hitting the table.

- ACE SMOKER ACE SMOKER ACE SMOKER

- literally the vice admiral of asexuals HOWEVER i don't think he's totally sex-averse. he had his tumbles in his younger years (hina and drake cough cough) but as he gets older usually attributes less importance to sex and romantic partners - plus he's too fuckin busy.

- so a wildly low sex drive paired with "too busy for life" disease = probably...sex-favorable smoker? either way i want an ace flag w this man's name and face on it

- (may i add pansexual smoker to ace smoker)

- not materialistic, but probs kinda loaded from being a high-ranking marine and never having something to spend his money on?

- motorcycle guy. on the down low, though. he likes bikes and likes riding them (hence why he has one) but rarely gets chances to explore it as a hobby.

- looks like he's grimacing a lot if he doesn't have his cigars but ONLY because his mouth/cheeks are so accustomed to clenching around his cigars that when they aren't there, his facial muscles still tighten and move which usually results in an unintended scowl.

- also for this reason, probably has problems with clenching his jaw a lot, possibly resulting in headaches from time to time

- and FINALLY

- even if he's a big scary pirate hunting bloodhound, and even if it takes him a long time to get accustomed to regular romantic touch - STROKE HIS HAIR. i feel like he'd just die for really good headrubs. don't worry if his hair gets messed up, he'll fix it later, but for the love god let him put his head down and stroke his hair, his neck, his shoulders, and watch vice admiral smoker melt away into a blissful, much-needed nap.

Mischaracterization in fics is annoying and can sometimes make me be like “he would not say that” EXCEPT when I do it. he would say that because I am holding him at gunpoint to do so

CIGARS AND FLOWERS

a quick birthday piece for my favorite man!! i'm super busy rn so this is probably all i'll get to write for him :( but i hope ppl enjoy!

[tagging some active smoker besties just in case they want: @smokersbaby @thesinisterseventh

[smoker/oc, brief mentions of tashigi and vergo, no warnings apply; 1425 words]

"What's this?"

The little box was wrapped in thin but expensive looking paper, waxy brown that's creased perfectly at its corners and glued lengthwise. There was a simple string of twine crossing it and making a small, knotted bow in the center. He knew it had to be from her because Tashigi had already given him something over breakfast, and as far as he knew she was the only one on this entire ship who knew about today. Vivian looked at him with a small, pursed smile in the evening sunlight coming in through the windows, a friendly, disarming smile, and held her hands behind her back.

“Cigars,” came her reply, upbeat and simple. “I know it’s a bit of a shot in the dark. Sir. Just a hunch.” He rolled his jaw to adjust the cigar in the corner of his mouth with a light scoff.

“For what?” He asked. Her smile widened to allow a glimpse of teeth, and she shifted to place both hands on her hips.

“March fourteenth.” Her giggles were ill-concealed as she watched him raise an eyebrow at her, tapping one finger to the wrapped box.

“For what?” he repeated, pulling the cigar from his lips to tap it out against the thick glass dish by the edge of his small desk. He waited, looking up at her, brown eyes latched expectantly onto her lips quivering with a smile. And waited. And waited.

“For your birthday!” she blurted finally, tossing both hands out. “Isn’t that exciting? It’s your birthday!” With a resigned sigh Smoker deflated back into his rickety desk chair, sticky against his bare back with humidity and warm from sitting in the sun. He dragged both hands over his face before finding the cigar again and clamping his teeth around it.

“It’s not my birthday,” he said simply, sliding the box across his desk towards her. “Take them back.”

“You're a liar, sir,” she responded, pushing it back. “I don’t know anyone else who smokes these, so I can’t give them away.”

“It’s not my birthday.” Slide.

“Just take them.” Push.

“I’m not taking them.” Slide.

“Don’t be a baby.” Push.

Her hand sat firmly on the neatly, paper wrapped box now, holding it in place so he couldn’t get rid of it again. There was a very well-set look of yeah, and? on her face, a challenging eyebrow raised his way. He couldn’t get around the fact that Tashigi must’ve accidentally told her about his birthday, so she undoubtedly knew. And the wrapping here was too neat to be anything not expensive. The smell, too, if he got a good whiff earlier, meant the cigars inside were not to be scoffed at. The corners of her mouth curled as she realized he was considering. Calculating.

“Happy birthday,” she said, putting the box directly in front of him and lifting her hand away with certainty. “I won’t tell anyone else, don’t worry.” Did it matter too much Tashigi had told her? Well, maybe. They’d only known Vivian Cloud for less than a year. He and Tashigi had known each other almost a decade and she’d only managed to learn his birthday four years ago. But that was after a long time of knowing him - not a handful of months thrown into the Grand Line together. Still, somehow, it was a good sign that Tashigi had told her, even if by accident. It meant she trusted Vivian, and if she trusted the newcomer, he could too. It might just take longer.

“I appreciate it,” he said begrudgingly at long last, if for no other reason than the fact she’d probably dropped a significant amount of Berries on this, “but don’t get me presents. I don’t do birthdays.”

“You can’t accept something from Tashigi and not from me,” she laughed, stepping back from his desk. “I’m here to stay, Commodore.”

“At this rate, we’ll see about it,” he called as she made her way to the door, and she paused to laugh and clutch the threshold. She didn’t look back to see his grin, but closed the door quietly behind her, leaving him and the box of expensive cigars in peace and quiet.

He’d need to have some words with Tashigi.

“What’s this?”

He knows exactly what it is, but he asks anyway, in the faint and non-believable hope that maybe one of these years those simple words will sway her from embarrassing him. She nudges the door to his office shut with her hip, beaming bright enough to light up the entire island and then some.

“Cigars,” she sings, maneuvering around the armchairs in his office to come to his desk and set the cleanly wrapped box about the size of his hand atop the pile of papers in front of him. The paper changes every year - this time it’s a soft, powdery blue with a thin black ribbon tied over it - but the box’s contents do not. He made her agree to that, forced her into a contract. She’s held it so far, for three years, but as a workaround she’s taken to getting him a second, less tangible gift. Last year it was fancy cologne he’s certain he’s only used twice - so, maybe not quite as flimsy a gift as he would’ve liked - and the year before was fresh pears from the island they had just left. He doesn’t say much about the secondary gifts because he knows in the end it makes her more happy to actually be able to give him something and not just a box of whatever strange and foreign cigars she found that year on their travels. As long as they stay small or mostly perishable, he doesn’t mind.

This year it’s flowers. He tries to remember if anyone has ever gifted him flowers before; Tashigi probably, on occasion, but only once or twice. The vase is thankfully small, filled partway with water, and undecorated, but looks new. The flowers are fresh. He takes them somewhat awkwardly from her hands and decides to set the glass down on his desk, where she perches on the edge to rearrange the petals lightly.

“Azaleas, red camellias, convolvulus, ferns, and forget-me-nots,” she lists, pointing out each as they’re named. The azaleas are a mixed pinkish-purple, the camellias bright red in the sunlight pouring in at his back, the convolvulus - one he’s never even heard of before - a pretty pink with white centers. Ferns are familiar and classic, and the little forget-me-nots compliment the other convolvulus flowers well despite the contrast in color. There are some blue convolvulus too, scattered around in the edges of the delicate white baby’s breath. It’s not a perfect arrangement but that’s what makes it handmade.

“And cigars,” she giggles, pushing the box across the desk to him.

“It’s not my birthday,” he argues, more for the ceremony of it than anything else, but she leans across the desk with a hand on his jaw to draw him up into a long, firm kiss that is quick to snatch the breath and words from his lungs. She leaves his lower lip wet with saliva and her nails graze through his hair before she kisses his cheek and slides off the desk.

“Happy birthday,” she murmurs, smiling that plump little rosebud smile at him. “Enjoy the flowers.” As she usually does she leaves him a little dazed by the gifts and the kiss and he takes a second to reboot and reply, heat curling in his neck.

“I don’t do birthdays,” he sighs while shuffling his papers in a very worklike fashion, trying to make himself believe he’s been productive this whole time, “but thank you.” She laughs while she leaves his office, pausing to give him a little wave at the door before closing it behind her.

Within the next hour Vergo is sitting across his desk in one of the armchairs, the cigars tucked away but the flowers perched in their small glass vase on the deep sill of one of the windows behind his chair. The base commander hums while he cocks his head and looks at the arrangement, and Smoker watches the other man closely while trying to appear relaxed.

“How nice,” Vergo says simply. “Do you know about the language of flowers, Vice Admiral Smoker?” The question catches him off guard, but he simply scoffs and exhales through the cigar.

“No. I stick to spoken ones,” he replies. Vergo hums again.

“So you don’t know what any of those flowers mean?”

“They were just a gift,” Smoker says. “I didn’t get them myself.”

As Vergo stands he glances at the vase one last time. “If the language of flowers is worth anything, Vice Admiral, I would hope you didn’t.”

Y'ALL I MANIFESTED IT!!! WE HAVE SMOKER & TASHIGI CASTING‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️💃💃💃💃 (and dalton and wapol) IM SO EXCITED

even more random eyecatcher-style icons!

free to use with permission + credit!

(alt versions under the cut)

ok if I ever write anything else in my straw hat uta au I’ll def include reiju/tashigi bc that color spread…