This is a collection of Karlnapity one-shots This collection contains mature content that may not be suitable for some audiences These shorts contain stories with one, two, or three of the characters in the Karlnapity trio This is a reupload of my original shorts collection that was taken down

My first story so it will probably suck. Lots of smut. Smut is probably going to be VERY cringe

Sapnap is in a therapy session, venting about his past relationship and the confusion and pain it left behind. He struggles with not knowing where he stood-whether he was truly loved, used, or even part of a betrayal involving someone named Wilbur. The uncertainty makes it hard for him to process his emotions, leaving him stuck between anger, guilt, and exhaustion. During the session, he spaces out while thinking about everything, and his therapist snaps their fingers to bring him back to reality. Once grounded again, Sapnap admits how lost and overwhelmed he feels, especially from trying to make sense of something that never had clear answers. His therapist gently reassures him that even without answers, his feelings are valid and real-and that he doesn't need full closure from the past to start healing.

Zak was painfully self-conscious about his heterochromatic eyes-the striking contrast of icy blue and deep black made him feel exposed, like everyone could see right through him. His olive-toned skin only added to his insecurities, so he often went to elaborate lengths to hide himself. Most days, he wore gloves that covered his hands completely, even when the weather was warm, and atop his head sat a cardboard mask shaped like a goofy, smiling face. The "carpet head," as he half-jokingly called it, was painted in deep midnight blues and streaks of black, almost like a miniature storm cloud perched on his shoulders. The mask's eyes were carefully cut out and covered with fine mesh, allowing him to see the world clearly without revealing his own. The overall effect was bizarre, almost comical at first glance, but to Zak, it was a shield-a way to keep the world at arm's length while he navigated spaces where he didn't feel he belonged. Sometimes the edges of the cardboard were frayed, the paint smudged from hours of wear, giving it a rough, lived-in texture that matched the tension he carried beneath it. And though the mask was silly, Zak had chosen his colors deliberately: blue, the color of quiet and distance, and black, the color of hiding and shadows. Together, they became his armor, his way of controlling how much-or how little-of himself anyone could see. Even when he spoke, his voice carried a hesitant quality, as if the mask absorbed some of the sound, muffling it into the space between him and the world. People might have laughed at the ridiculous expression painted on the cardboard, but only Zack knew the effort it took to create a small, safe pocket of anonymity in a world that always seemed ready to judge. but then he met someone who didn't care about what he looked like or anything like that