A series of short prompt I did tonight on requests from a Domestic AU list. It's really silly and probably crack.

Domestic AU

Person A suspect the new neighbors are serial killers. Person B attempts to placate them.

"I'm telling you, Haymitch, something is wrong with them." Effie hissed, peeking behind the curtain. The new neighbors were moving in next door, right from District Two, and she had a very bad feeling about them. "You heard him earlier, he calls her pet. Who calls their wife pet?"

"I call you Princess." Haymitch pointed out from the couch.

"Princess not pet." she huffed. "And don't you even dare try it, I will kill you."
She gasped loudly when the man outside dropped a box and its content spilled on the ground. "Oh, my! Haymitch! Come and see! Hurry! Hurry!"

"You're completely crazy." he mumbled.

"They have whips and chains!" she gasped. "Come and see!"

With a grunt, he stood up and came to stand behind her. He barely glanced outside before letting out a snort.

"Why are you laughing?" Effie growled. "They're serial killers! I'm telling you! You will find it less funny when they will bury you in their basement."

"You mean their sex dungeon?" he joked. "That's BDSM stuff, sweetheart."

She frowned and peered at the things their new neighbor was quickly picking off the ground. "Are you certain?"

"Well, maybe they're kinky serial killers." he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her away from the window.

Power outage causes them to have dinner by candle light.

"This sort of things never happens in the Capitol." Effie commented, placing another candle on the table. "Power outages are a thing of the past in the city."

"Welcome to Twelve." Haymitch shrugged, chewing on his spoonful of stew. "You live here now, you should get used to it 'cause this kind of things happens all the time."

It was almost defensive and she was expecting him to tell her to go back to the Capitol if she wasn't happy any minute now.

"I'm not complaining." she hummed softly. "This is nice." She carefully didn't say a dinner by candle light was romantic. Haymitch didn't do romance - not officially anyway. "Don't you think so?"

She reached for his hand over the table. It was probably telling of everything they had been through that he played with her fingers instead of pulling back. They had changed since the war, they were different now.

"Yeah." he smirked. "You know what's better than dinning by candle light?"

"Please don't ruin the mood with your crude innuendos." she sighed, fighting to keep the grin from her lips. She didn't manage for long.

She had no doubt he would convince her of partaking in some unlady-like activities soon enough.

Swapping "miracle cure recipes" for hangovers.

Haymitch was no stranger to hangovers, he bore them with fatalism, knowing it was the price to pay for his heavy drinking. Early in their partnership, Effie had developed a strategy to deal with what she had dubbed "his hangover mood" which consisted of stuffing him with sobering pills and aspirin tablets.

"I will never ever drink that much again." she whined from the couch where she had made herself a fort of blankets. She had certainly celebrated the kids' wedding with more alcohol than she usually allowed herself. The sobering pills and the aspirin tablets were scattered on the coffee table with a bottle of water but she was quickly finding out it wasn't as effective as she had thought it was.

"You want to know my secret cure for hangovers, sweetheart?" he taunted.

All he got was a glare. "If you had a secret cure for hangovers, I would know."

"You're sure?" he snorted. "'Cause I'm here, doing fine, and you're over there, looking like you're ready to barf…"

She shot him an annoyed glance. "Alright, I will bite. What is your secret cure?"

"Drink more wine." he shrugged.

She stared and stared and then pulled her blanket up to her chin. "I hate you."

"Me too, sweetheart." he winked.

Walks in on roommate crying while watching a movie in the living room.

Haymitch never bothered with the TV before the war but now that Effie had moved in, the TV was on more often than not. Twelve was too silent for her tastes or so she claimed - the truth was she was addicted to soap operas and to all of those movies that ended with the main characters kissing in front of a sunset. It was ridiculous. She was a ridiculous person.

Unfortunately, it only made him more fond of her.

All that to say he wasn't overly surprised when he walked in one day to find her in tears in front of the TV, crumpled hankershiefs all around her on the couch and a half empty glass of wine forgotten in her hand.

He glanced at the screen to find one of those absurd romance movie that made him roll his eyes. She was so engrossed in the story she didn't even see him. Haymitch watched her for a while, amused by how easily she gasped and pressed a hand against her lips when something surprising happened on screen. She looked younger, more innocent, more like the Effie Trinket he remembered from before the war.

He was so lost in his own contemplation, he didn't notice the movie was finished until she turned to him, an inquisitive eyebrow lifted in a question. "Why are you watching me?"

"'Cause you're beautiful." he shrugged.

She was ridiculous.

But so was he.

Begrudgingly adopts the cat that climbed in through the open window and hid in said closet.

"We are not keeping the cat." Haymitch repeated for the third time.

Effie kept cooing and petting the black monster that had almost clawed his face off when he had opened the cupboard. The worst thing? Instead of fussing over him, Effie had scolded him for scaring the poor cat and she had then proceeded to feed it. And the monster was purring.

"Effie, we are not keeping the cat." he insisted.

"Of course not, darling." she hummed in that very fashion that told him she wasn't listening.

"I'm serious." he grumbled.

Serious or not, they kept the cat.