Why Shiv And Tom S Relationship In Succession Is Filled With Red Flags

Okay, so picture this: you’re at a fancy, probably aggressively over-decorated café, the kind where the lattes have more foam than a sea lion convention and the croissants cost more than your weekly grocery bill. You’re nursing your artisanal acorn-infused beverage, and your friend leans in conspiratorially, whispering about Shiv and Tom from Succession. You know them, right? The impossibly wealthy, impossibly miserable power couple who make dating your ex seem like a spa retreat. Well, buckle up, buttercups, because their relationship isn't just a little bumpy; it’s a full-on, multi-car pile-up on the highway to hell, paved with red flags the size of Texas.

Honestly, if you were to put Shiv and Tom’s relationship into a dating app profile, it would get immediately flagged by the algorithm and sent to a committee for review, probably by people who’ve never experienced human emotion. First off, let’s talk about Tom Wambsgans. Bless his little, sycophantic heart. He’s like a golden retriever who desperately wants approval, but instead of a belly rub, he gets a swift kick in the shins by Logan Roy. His entire existence seems to revolve around being the right-hand man, the yes-man, the guy who’ll clean up the metaphorical (and sometimes literal) poop. And Shiv? She’s the icy queen who sees him as a useful, slightly amusing accessory. Think of it like buying a very expensive but ultimately useless avocado slicer. You might use it, but mostly it just sits there, judging you.

The foundation of their love, if you can even call it that, is built on… well, what is it built on? Power plays? Mutual misery? A shared appreciation for expensive scotch and backstabbing? It’s like trying to build a sturdy house on a foundation of Jell-O and existential dread. Shiv, with her razor-sharp wit and even sharper ambition, sees Tom as a stepping stone. And Tom, in his desperate, clawing bid for acceptance from the Roys, sees Shiv as his ticket in. It’s less “soulmates” and more “strategic alliance.” It's like two chess pieces deciding to form an alliance to take down the King, even if it means sacrificing their own dignity along the way.

Let’s delve into the red flags, shall we? We’re not talking about the mild “he snores” or “she leaves her socks on the floor” kind of red flags. These are the neon-flashing, siren-blaring, klaxon-honking, “ABORT MISSION!” kind of red flags. For starters, there’s the sheer lack of genuine affection. When they do interact affectionately, it often feels forced, like a hostage reading a prepared statement. Remember that time Tom tried to be all romantic and Shiv just… didn't care? It was like watching a puppy try to offer a meticulously chosen stick to a cat who’s busy contemplating the void. Utterly tragic.

Then there’s the constant manipulation and betrayal. Oh, honey, where do I even begin? Shiv is a masterclass in emotional warfare. She’ll deploy her charm like a weapon, only to turn around and stab Tom in the back with the precision of a seasoned surgeon. And Tom? He’s not exactly innocent. He’s always looking for an angle, always calculating, always ready to throw Shiv under the bus if it means saving his own skin or getting a leg up. It’s like watching a highly sophisticated game of “King of the Hill,” where the hill is made of broken dreams and the prize is a slightly less terrible job title.

And the disrespect! My goodness, the disrespect is Olympic-level. Shiv treats Tom like he’s her personal assistant, her therapist, and her punching bag, all rolled into one. She belittles him, dismisses his feelings, and consistently undermines him, especially in front of her family. And Tom, bless his soul again, seems to accept it, or at least tolerate it to a degree that makes you want to throw your latte at the TV. It’s like he’s addicted to the abuse, or maybe he just enjoys the thrill of walking on eggshells. Fun fact: the average human heart beats about 100,000 times a day. I bet Tom’s heart beats at least twice that just thinking about what Shiv might say next.

Let’s not forget the open marital disdain. They actively seem to dislike each other most of the time. Their conversations are often laced with passive aggression, thinly veiled insults, and an underlying current of resentment that could curdle milk at fifty paces. When they’re not actively plotting against each other, they’re usually just ignoring each other, which is arguably worse. It’s like being stuck in an elevator with someone you can’t stand, but the elevator music is just the faint sound of your own existential despair.

And the sex? Oh, the sex. It’s less about intimacy and connection, and more about… obligation? Power dynamics? A desperate attempt to feel something, anything? It’s often awkward, transactional, and usually feels like it's happening because the script demands it. I’ve seen more passion in a lukewarm cup of tea. Remember that scene where Shiv is clearly not into it, and Tom just… powers through? Yeah, that’s a whole dumpster fire of red flags right there. It’s less about “making love” and more about “making a point.”

What’s truly fascinating is how they enable each other’s worst traits. Shiv’s ambition is fueled by Tom’s willingness to be her doormat. Tom’s insecurity is amplified by Shiv’s constant put-downs. They’re like two toxic mushrooms growing on the rotting corpse of a healthy relationship, feeding off each other’s poison. It’s a symbiotic relationship, alright, but not in the way you’d want. It’s like a vampire and a mosquito having a baby. And that baby is probably just a tiny, bloodsucking ball of pure, unadulterated chaos.

Honestly, when you look at Shiv and Tom, it’s a masterclass in what not to do in a relationship. If you ever find yourself thinking, “You know, maybe my partner treating me like dirt and constantly undermining me isn’t so bad,” I urge you to take a deep breath, step away from the screen, and perhaps call a friend. Or a therapist. Or anyone who can remind you that love shouldn't feel like a hostile takeover bid. It should feel like… well, not this. Not the Shiv and Tom special. That’s a recipe for disaster, and the only thing they’re successfully building is a monument to their own unhappiness. And honestly, watching it is both terrifying and incredibly addictive. Pass the popcorn, but maybe with a side of therapy recommendations.