#pixelperfectlove

Bucky had been looking for you for the past ten minutes, wandering through the apartment with his “I’m-not-worried-but-I’m-kind-of-worried” face on.

You weren’t in the kitchen. Not on the couch. Not in the bedroom.

Finally, he spotted you at your desk, hunched forward in your computer chair, muttering something about “flirty moodlets” and “autonomy off.”

“Hey, doll—” He leaned over your shoulder and froze. “...Is that me?”

On your screen was a pixel-perfect Sim version of him—black Henley, stubble, brooding eyes—currently sitting at a digital kitchen table. Across from him sat a Sim version of you, wearing your exact favorite hoodie.

“Yes,” you said without looking away from the screen. “And we’re married. You just made pancakes for me. You’re very sweet in this universe.”

Bucky blinked. “…Okay. So, uh… what’s with the giant locked basement?”

You smirked. “Oh, those are the neighbors. They kept walking into our house and taking our food, so… they live downstairs now.”

On-screen, a cluster of random Sims stood in a windowless room with a single toilet and no door, all miserably waving their arms in desperation.

Bucky tilted his head. “Doll… should I be concerned?”

You clicked “Romance” on Sim-Bucky, making him kiss Sim-You while muffled sobbing echoed from the basement. “Depends. Do you like a woman who’s loyal and devoted… but also a little unhinged?”

He gave a slow grin. “…Okay, so now I don’t know if I’m concerned or incredibly turned on.”