#now i want an animal rescue au#i am the trash of the internet i know#don’t look up (via @ifeelbetterer)

I mean the thing is that it would be amazing?

Like what if Baze adopts this really high-strung border collie/pit bull mix when he goes to the animal shelter kind of on a whim and they’re showing him all these adorable dogs and then there’s this one irritable dog with a broken tail and a squint in her eye and the shelter volunteers are like “…yeah be careful, she doesn’t bite exactly but she psychs people into thinking she’ll bite,” and Baze is like, “that’s hilarious, I want that one,” and the volunteers are like “oooooookay bro your funeral” and that’s how Baze adopts Jyn.

And at first they basically live at opposite ends of the apartment, like Jun will literally up and move every time Baze comes near her, but Baze is a Chill Dude Who Fought In Wars And Stuff, he knows from PTSD and figures as long as she doesn’t shit in his bed they’re cool. So eventually they become buddies and go on long walks through the city and when Baze wakes up this is what he sees:

But then one day they’re walking along in the park along the river and this great big fuck-off massive dog demon of death comes loping toward them and Jyn looks about ready to find a switchblade or something and Baze is like “what a stupid way to die” when from right behind said dog demon of death comes an EXTREMELY irritated looking poodle who takes one look at Jyn and makes this annoyed noise that Baze never knew dogs could make.

And that’s how Baze gets adopted by two more dogs, K2 and Cassian:

Walks at this point become a little more difficult, at least until Baze accepts their preferred way of walking: Cassian without a leash and more or less patrolling around them at all times to look for danger, and K2 and Jyn both on a leash – but sometimes K2 is the one holding Jyn’s leash, and sometimes Jyn is the one holding K2′s leash. Baze is just glad they haven’t tried ganging up on him and making him wear a collar, because he’s pretty sure they could swing it.

And all this works out really well until one day Baze is taking his dogs to the vet and there’s a commotion in the back because apparently some purebred labradoodle (”I thought the whole point of those dogs is that they weren’t purebred,” Baze mutters to his seatmate, a cool dude named Bail who’s brought in a wildly antisocial cat named Wedge to treat for a torn-up ear) has shown up and the assistants aren’t sure what to do because he’s not microchipped or tagged or anything but he’s clearly ready to make friends and influence people, and they don’t want to send him down to the animal shelter because they’ve got a backlog and the poor guy might get put down. And Baze really wasn’t gonna do it except the labradoodle (”such a dumb name for a dog”) comes out into the waiting area with one of the vet assistants’ scarf around his neck and he looks dapper as fuck and immediately becomes BFFs with Jyn, who up until now has shown only like two feelings ever. So like, Baze clearly doesn’t have a choice, and that’s how he gets Bodhi:

It should be crowded - it kind of is, Baze makes pretty good living doing security consultation but it’s still just a one-bedroom and like, dogs take up way more space than all those lying obedience book assholes admit. But he’s not that upset about it; it’s kind of nice, especially since none of them are the yappy types or all that clingy except when it comes to mealtimes. They don’t even bark when the doorbell rings or someone walks past; instead they all take up strategic positions around the living room and stare intently at the door, Cassian making a very, very low growling noise.

(It probably should be more worrying than just barking, but Baze came home one day to see the lock busted on his front door. He’d rushed in, sick to his stomach, to find Jyn, Cassian and K2 sprawled out in various places in the living room, Jyn with a spot of blood on her muzzle and Cassian chewing on a shoe that definitely did not belong to him. There was a note that had been shoved under the door: ‘SORRY FOR BREAKING IN BUT FUCK WHY DO YOU OWN WOLVES.’ Baze found Bodhi in the kitchen, shaking like a leaf but looking determined to protect the honor of the food. Baze didn’t bother fixing the lock and he never had troubles with break-ins after that.)

Still, things are good; Baze sleeps well at night despite (because of) the sense of someone in the room, the comforting, begrudging lump of Jyn at the back of his knees. He doesn’t feel as ground down as he did; he smiles at the other people at the dog park (even though he can only really take Bodhi, the other ones try to start shit too often) and sneaking them all down to the river for some highly illegal dog swimming is more fun than a man his age should be having.

It’s great, except that he works long hours and can’t always get home during lunchtime– that grates on him a little, makes him guilty when he comes home after ten hours and the bed is pointedly not-peed-on. So he asks around and gets some references from the solemn-faced woman Mon Mothma who has an entire menagerie of corgis that she brings to the park every day. He gives one of them a call.

“Sure, I’m available. How about I come over and introduce myself?”

Baze blinks at the phone. “Uh. Sure, there’s a coffee shop–”

“No,” the man says, and Baze can tell he’s smiling somehow, “I meant so I can introduce myself to your dogs. I don’t care if you like me, but the dogs need to trust me, otherwise I wouldn’t be a good fit.”

So Baze gives this complete stranger his address and apartment number and spends the next two hours – who says they can be over in two hours? Baze was hoping for like a week to ramp up to this – trying and failing to de-shit-heap his apartment. He even downloads that stupid Unfuck Your Habitat app that his nieces showed him. (It actually worked really well helping him organize his closet.) But when the buzzer goes he figures this is as good as it’s going to get and he buzzes the guy up.

When he opens the door, it’s to a man who’s already (still) smiling, a pair of sunglasses pushed up onto his forehead and a white stick (folded-up cane, Baze had seen a few of them at the VA hospital for guys who’d been blinded by IEDs) in his hand. He’s wearing a leather jacket that somehow manages not to look completely pretentious, and he’s sticking his other hand out. “Hi,” he says, “I’m Chirrut, and I still don’t care if you like me. Where are the dogs?”

And that’s how Baze Malbus falls in love with Chirrut Îmwe and Chirrut Îmwe falls in love with Baze Malbus (and also his dogs).