3. Black cat
"You know the painter that found the stuffed cat? She wants to do a picture of me."
"Naked?"
"Mark!!"
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Jack looked at the envelope, a smile on his face. The girl had taken his advice and sold the wretched black cat stuffed animal, and was seemingly doing well according to the letter. She was still painting which was a surprise, you'd think after the prophecy of the black cat would be enough to make her quit for good. Such a strong girl. She also wanted him to model for him, saying that personality and positivity would be great to have.

"Hey Mark!" Jack called over his shoulder to his husband, who was currently trying to feed their dog lunch meat without Jack noticing. Mark slammed the lid on the container and shoved it in the fridge. "Yes dear?"

"You know the painter that found the stuffed cat? She wants to do a picture of me." Mark looked over at him.

"Naked?"

"Mark!!" Jack's face coloured at the suggestion, about to throw the paper at him but realizing that it was paper and did not go far.

"'Cause I don't want to share, and if I do with a young girl like that I might loose you." Mark said, the corny line working perfectly with Mark's self-proclaimed oldness. Jack rolled his eyes. As if he would leave his perfect husband go anyone else.

"No Mark, she want me to be myself, wear something I usually wear. No bikinis or stripper uniforms." Mark was now standing next to Jack's chair, smiling.

"That's good." Mark said absently, leaning in to kiss his husband.