Log in

No account? Create an account

The Social Network: the kink meme!

It's Complicated: But sexy!

Mark Zuckerberg
The Sarcastic Kitty oresteia wrote in tsn_kinkmeme
Previous Entry Share Next Entry
[PART NINE] & Some News
Okay, I'm a little new at this so sorry if I mess this up first go. Because it's been 5 months since the last round even though we haven't been busy. I figured I might as well earn my keep and try to get this place alive again...




IMPORTANT: please DO NOT post prompts about any non-public people as part of a prompt. for example: randi zuckerberg is fine as she is a public figure both on the internet and on facebook itself. priscilla chan is NOT as she is not a public figure.

if you're in doubt, please message the mod or leave a comment in the discussion post.

♥ post requests and responses in the comments to this post.
♥ be respectful.
♥ both a pairing/character AND a prompt/kink must be posted.
♥ one pairing/prompt per comment please.
♥ you are encouraged to try and write a prompt for every request you make.
♥ we are slash, femslash, het, three-and-moresomes etc. friendly. (we are even incest friendly what with some of our characters being twins and all...)
♥ no pairing bashing, OK? no need to wank over ships.
♥ long and short fics welcome. multiple responses encouraged!
♥ please try to refrain from saying 'seconded!' as much as possible.
♥ on RPF: Please disclaim that it is RPF, a work of fiction and in no way related to the actual actors/persons/etc. (i wouldn't even try and discourage RPF from this meme ;))


♥ alphabetize pairings/threesomes/moresomes. (e.g. Eduardo/Mark/Sean etc.)
♥ put [RPF] before RPF prompts. (e.g. [RPF] Andrew/Jesse)
♥ for crossover prompts: "[Crossover], The Social Network Character(s)/Other Character(s), [Fandom]" (e.g. [Crossover], Eduardo/Columbus, [Zombieland])
♥ no "!" in pairings, only in descriptions. (e.g. Eduardo/Mark, FacebookCreator!Eduardo, CFO!Mark)
♥ anyone, everyone, no one? Use "Other." (e.g. Sean/Other)
♥ Please do not repost prompts from earlier rounds
♥ put [GEN] before GEN prompts.


♥ please don't embed. link to images/videos.
♥ no locked material. this includes communities, even if membership is open.
♥ fills can be posted anonymously or not.
♥ fills can be anything: fic, art, vid, fanmix, podfic, etc.
♥ all prompts are open to fills at all times, even if they have been filled in the past or are being currently filled by someone else. multiple fills are positively encouraged; if something appeals to you then do not be put off creating a new fill by the existence of a prior one.
NEW: ♥ PLEASE comment with the first of your fill to the PROMPT and then all future updates as a comment to the FIRST PART of the fill. this makes it easier for both the WIP spreadhseet and for archiving stuff on delicious. it also helps people who are trying to catch up on updates and don't have to look through every fill on the prompt (should it have more than one). thank you.

Hi, right now everyone is working on some changes so hold on new things are coming. In an effort to kick this place back into action, we're doing round 9. In a few days, we'll be setting up a fills post that hopefully will work directly for archiving and an overflow post. Also we'll be doing a friending meme at tsn_km_gather so be looking out for that. I know some of the other mods have plans of their own which will be coming soon.

If you have any questions or ideas that I can help you with, feel free to PM me. I'll be around.



have fun!

THERE WILL BE UNMARKED SPOILERS. enter at your own risk! :D


i know you guys are enjoying this meme and i appreciate that but please can you put the SUBJECT HEADER on your prompt. you would REALLY be helping me out if you could do that. it just saves time for me when i'm trying to tag everything in delicious.



AND PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE DO NOT repost prompts from parts three, four, five, six, seven, or eight. the delicious is around for people to find prompts they may not have already seen. We know there's been some issues but we're working on it with pinboard. No duplicates from this round either. THANK YOU.

Eduardo/Mark - Eduardo is Mark's lawyer

AU in which Eduardo is Mark's lawyer during the depositions with the Divya and the Winklevi, or whenever, really. I just really want Eduardo, half-dressed in his pressed suit while he bends Mark over the deposition table. I also imagine he could put that tie to some pretty good uses (namely, to shut Mark and all his sass up so Eduardo can do his job already, Mark).

Terms of Service (1a/?)

Caveat: I know nothing about law. Nothing at all

The fact of the matter was, Mark didn't give a shit about the Winklevii. He hadn't built their ineffectual dating site because he could think of better uses for his time in a locked, padded cell. They overvalued themselves; they undervalued him. So maybe he'd fucked them around, well, whatever, that probably wasn't a crime, and if it was, it wasn't the one he was being sued for.

Because Facebook was brilliant; Facebook was the game changer, the thing people hadn't known they needed till he'd shown them all. Because Facebook had grown into something he doubted the Winklevoss twins could comprehend, a vast network, a world within a world. Because, most of all, Facebook was his.

He hadn't stolen their idea any more than he'd walked into the offices of MySpace and stolen that idea. They had come to him with an idea; he'd had a better one.

"Okay," said Eduardo, gesturing broadly with his pen, "but you know that's a terrible argument, right?"

Mark made a face, wondering why he bothered to articulate himself when it was clear no one was willing to listen. He turned away from Eduardo's seat beside him, scowling down at the table. "What's terrible about it?"

"Well, that's not how intellectual property law works."

He glared. "Do you have to pay someone royalties every time you make an argument based on an existing case?" he asked. "Of course you don't. That's ridiculous. If you build a chair, you don't owe money to everyone who's ever built a chair."

Eduardo laughed. He was unfairly jovial at a time in Mark's life when he felt the most harried, most lacked support. Mark resented that, couldn't tell if Eduardo was laughing with or at him (and wasn't that a bullshit cop-out, I was laughing with you). In high school, Mark's life had been taken over by Synapse and he'd sometimes gotten on the bus with his pants inside out, once wore a shirt with a come stain at the hem. He was familiar with being laughed at, and it sparked the same anger in him every time.

"The fact of the matter is," said Eduardo, "that that's not how it works." He stood and offered Mark a hand. Mark ignored it, climbing to his feet on his own and shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket ("You need to wear a suit," Eduardo said, and grinned at Mark's expression. "Fine, not to our meetings, just the depositions").

"Mark," he heard when he was at the door, and he stopped, shoulders curved, but didn't turn. Eduardo's fingers were warm against the back of his neck. "Hey, look at me a sec."

He did, reluctantly, and there was a moment where their eyes caught and they stared, two inches apart with Eduardo's hand still cradling the back of Mark's neck. Mark wanted to wrench himself away almost as much as he wanted to push closer. Eduardo shook his head. "When's the last time you had something to eat?"

"I ate an hour ago," Mark replied, rolling his eyes.

"What did you eat?" Eduardo asked.

He huffed, exasperated. "Jesus, you're like my mother." Eduardo just raised his eyebrows. "How does it work?"

Eduardo blinked. "What?"

"Intellectual property law. You said it doesn't work that way."

"Oh," said Eduardo. "It's hard to explain."

"I'm very intelligent," said Mark.

Eduardo laughed again. "Yeah." He pulled away, finally, the tips of his fingers brushing Mark's curls. "Be on time tomorrow, Mark," he said as he turned to the door. "Be respectful, be attentive." He pointed. "And wear the suit."


Terms of Service (1b/?)

"Did I adequately answer your condescending question?"

In the tense, loaded silence that followed, Mark watched Eduardo's hands clench and unclench on the table. He shifted, uncomfortably warm in a suit that had never quite fit him. The Winklevii's lawyer was silent, smirking like that would put him at an advantage again. Eduardo said, "We need a recess."

He dragged Mark into the bathroom by his sleeve and flicked the latch on the door. He whirled on Mark, who leaned against the wall, avoiding his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Being sued," said Mark, dry. "I think you—"

"No," Eduardo interrupted, holding up a hand. "Stop. Have I given you some reason not to trust me?" he asked.

Mark faltered. "I don't understand."

"I'm here for you," Eduardo said. He was painfully earnest in a way that made Mark's skin crawl. "I'm the guy that wants to win this case for you. Let me handle it."

He felt at a loss. "Let you handle it," he repeated. Eduardo nodded, emphatic.

"I'm going to win this for you, Mark." And then there he was in Mark's space once more, squeezing Mark's shoulder. Mark pushed back into the cool tile of the wall. "Mark, have you slept? You don't look so good."

"You're going to win this for me," Mark said, in lieu of reply. Eduardo's head bobbed again, up and down, and Mark closed his eyes without meaning to.

He felt the press of lips again his, warm and brief.

Eduardo pulled back, leaving Mark suddenly cold. "I'm sorry," he said, voice cracking. "That was inappropriate."

"Yes," said Mark. He hadn't yet opened his eyes.

There was the sound of Eduardo clearing his throat, and then he said, with forced casualness, "Not much longer today." When Mark opened his eyes, Eduardo was scanning his face, searching. Mark didn't know what he found there, if it was what he'd wanted, but he reached for the door and undid the latch then, saying quietly as he left, "Get some sleep."


Terms of Service (1c/?)

At half past eleven that night, Mark woke to pounding at his front door. Frustrated and groggy, he stumbled down the hallway in his bare feet, fumbled with the lock, threw open the heavy door, and bit out, "What?" as he rubbed his eyes.

Eduardo's mouth snapped shut, as if he'd geared himself up for something before Mark had reached him and the sight of Mark had pulled the plug on it. "What were you doing?" he asked.

Mark hoped his expression adequately conveyed the contempt he now had for Eduardo, Eduardo's profession, Eduardo's family, and Eduardo's ancestral line. When Eduardo snickered sheepishly, he figured it must have succeeded. "I didn't think you slept," Eduardo said.

"You told me to," said Mark.

"Do you listen to me?" Eduardo asked, a surprised lilt to his voice. Mark shrugged. He stepped back, and Eduardo brushed past him. He was still dressed in one of his sharp, shiny suits, but his hair was softer, like the gel had run out. Mark liked that, for some reason. It made something twist in his chest.

He rubbed his bare forearms as he watched Eduardo pace. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"What I did was inappropriate," said Eduardo. All the movement was starting to make Mark's eyes tired.

"You said that," Mark pointed out.

"Are you—" He stopped, running a hand through his hair. "Do you plan to take legal action?"

"Against my lawyer?" Mark asked, smirking.

Eduardo sighed. "Mark."

"No. I don't—" Mark struggled for the words he wanted, something that never failed to make him feel ineffectual, weak. "I didn't mind," he settled on, finally.

Eduardo glanced at him hopefully. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he inched forward, hand out. "Can I?" he asked, cocking his head.

Mark nodded.

Eduardo's palms cupped his cheeks, big and smooth. Mark tipped his head back and waited. For a moment, Eduardo's warm breath tickled his lips, and then their mouths slotted together in a way that felt soft and strange to Mark—Mark, who people never chose to kiss, who never chose to kiss other people. He hooked his arms around Eduardo's neck, reaching up up up as Eduardo's hand found his lower back and slid beneath his shirt.

"Mark," Eduardo muttered. Mark bit back the urge to tease a reply, instead fumbling down for Eduardo's zipper and tugging it open. Eduardo sucked in a breath.

"Mark." Mark titled his head as he reached through Eduardo's fly and cupped him over his underwear. Eduardo groaned and pushed up into Mark's hand. "Do you—do you know..."

"Shut up," said Mark, firmly.

Eduardo laughed, the sound a bit wild. "Be nice," he chided. Mark tipped his chin down and fought the smile that wanted its place on his lips.

"Okay," he said.

And then he slid to his knees, trailing his hands down Eduardo's narrow hips, his thighs. When he'd settled, he undid Eduardo's jeans properly and slipped a hand into his underwear. Eduardo tossed his head back, gasping.

He was almost tentative when he took Eduardo in his mouth, unsure about the feel, the weight and stretch. He was... it wasn't what he thought it'd be, and he furrowed his brow, not sure how to parse it, if it was a positive or a negative difference. He pulled back and trailed a finger down the length of Eduardo's cock, and Eduardo bit back a curse, trembling, and said, "I said be nice, god, Mark." Mark snickered.

Terms of Service (1d/?)

This time when he went down on Eduardo, he felt Eduardo's hand curl in his hair, tugging sharply for a moment before almost sliding out again. He stopped, frustrated, to catch it and direct it back. When he looked up at Eduardo from under his lashes, Eduardo was staring back, questioning.

Mark placed Eduardo's head against the back of his head and pushed.

Eduardo's eyebrows shot up, but he did as Mark directed, pushing Mark down on so the length of his cock slid past Mark's lips, wetly into his mouth, and out again, dragging. Mark choked a bit but fisted his hands in Eduardo's pants and twisted when Eduardo made to pull away, and Eduardo stopped, pushed Mark down again instead. He tugged Mark up by his hair, and then down again, a slow, even glide, and it was better. It was so much better.

He listened to Eduardo pant, getting lost in the rhythm of the movement, the feel of it all. Everything about Eduardo was warm and overwhelming, but comforting, somehow. He closed his eyes.

Eduardo's hips jerked when he got close, and he moaned low in his throat, hand twisting in Mark's curls. Mark rubbed the backs of his thighs, encouraging, until he tugged Mark off sharply. Mark tipped back and ran his fingers through his own hair as Eduardo pulled himself off onto the carpet, his face flushed and eyes twisted shut.

For a beat after Eduardo came, neither of them moved. And then Eduardo tucked himself back into his jeans with unsteady hands, reached down, and said to Mark, slurred, "C'mere."

He held Mark closer this time, arms around him, tongue darting between Mark's lips. He broke the kiss and breathed into the crook of Mark's neck as his hand went to Mark's hard-on, but Mark stopped him, shook his head, and brought him back up for another kiss. And then again and again, until Mark grabbed Eduardo's hand and held it against his chest.

Eduardo let him for a long moment, and then he broke their kiss, frustrated. "Don't you want..." he asked, trailing off with an awkward gesture.

"No," said Mark.

That got him a baffled look. "Why not?"

Mark shrugged.

"Okay," Eduardo said. He sounded like he wasn't sure if he meant it. "Is everything..."

Mark grinned. "Shut up," he said, fondly. He pressed in close and rested his head against Eduardo's neck. "I'm tired, Wardo," he murmured. "Can I sleep?"

"I..." Eduardo's fingers carded through his hair. "Sure, Mark. Yeah, sleep. I should get home. We have to be in at eight tomorrow, don't forget."

Mark pulled back to glare at him. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Mark, what're we..." He sighed.

"I think we passed 'unprofessional' when your cock ended up in my mouth," Mark snapped. He took a breath, collected himself. "I want... I need you to stay," he said. "Please stay."

Eduardo worried his lip between his teeth, brow furrowed. Mark's heart beat wildly in his chest, and he hated that, but he couldn't stop its racing. "Okay," said Eduardo, eventually. "Okay, yeah, I can stay."

With a smile, Mark grabbed his hand and tugged him down the hall.

Y E S oh man kink meme karma is good to me! okay, brb, actually reading, what is sleep, who needs it, that is a thing for weird people who have sad lives without fanfiction.

(no subject) - (Anonymous), 2012-03-11 03:40 am (UTC)(Expand)
lorrrrrd. ugh this is already so good; Eduardo is so perfectly IC, and Mark is so great, such a little shit, exactly as he always is with the Winklevosses. and the sex was insanely hot, what even; loved Mark pushing Eduardo to be a little forceful with him, and Eduardo getting really into it.

this is excellent, I am insanely excited for more!

Re: Terms of Service (1d/?)

YEEES *dances*


Oh my gosh, what kinkmeme god has deemed me worthy enough for this adghvajkdsl ANON YOU ARE PERFECT AND THIS IS INSANELY HOT AND EVERYTHING I WANTED AND MORE. Oh gosh, Eduardo is perfect, and Mark. I can't even. Seriously, I've lost the ability to articulate my feelings for this. :x I love their relationship in this already. In fact, I'm not sure what I like more, the porn or the way they interact with each other. Eduardo trying to keep up his professional imagine. <333 And Mark guiding his hand back to his hair made me asgfhvasdkl

Yep, going back to read it again. THIS IS PERFECT THANK YOU. -waits patiently for more-

Re: Terms of Service (1d/?)

*flails madly* already so excited for the rest of this fill <3

Re: Terms of Service (1d/?)

Damn, I don't care where this is going, as long as I get to tag along for the ride!

Re: Terms of Service (1d/?)

i like this so far!

Terms of Service (2a/?)

He woke to clammy skin against his, sticky and uncomfortably warm. Extracting his arm from Eduardo's death grip, he rolled his eyes when Eduardo stirred unhappily and grunted. Mark turned over and kicked the sheets out from around his legs.

"What time is it?" muttered Eduardo into the crook of his own arm, thrown over his face.

"About that," said Mark innocently. "What time did you say you needed to be up again?"

Eduardo gave a full-bodied twitch and shot up in bed. It took him eight long, hilarious seconds of wide-eyed panic to realize Mark was fucking with him, and then he flopped back down against the pillows like he'd lost all further will to stay upright. "Jesus, Mark."

"Sorry," Mark said with an unapologetic lack of sincerity.

"You gave me a heart attack," Eduardo insisted. "No, really, I think you about killed me."

Mark smirked. "Let me check," he said, and he rolled back over and straddled Eduardo. It was uncomfortable, his thighs straining, but the way Eduardo gasped and threw his head back was adequate reward.

He nearly collapsed against Eduardo's chest when Eduardo's hips bucked. Eduardo pulled him down with a hand the back of his head and nipped at his neck, pressing a kiss to his jaw. Mark's eyes fluttered shut.

"C'mere," Eduardo said, smoothing his hands against the back of Mark's boxers. Mark ground down against him without thinking about it, hips pumping. Eduardo's dick dragged against his own through the fabric of their boxer shorts. Mark panted wetly against Eduardo's bare chest and listened to Eduardo cursed in what sounded like Portuguese.

"You're from Brazil," he said quietly. Eduardo's heart beat rapidly beneath his hand.

"What?" Eduardo gasped, hands clenching against Mark's ass. "Yeah, what, I don't—are we really talking about this now?"

"No," said Mark, straining up to catch Eduardo's mouth as their hips rocked together. He listened to the song of Eduardo's ragged gasps, groaning when Eduardo's teeth teased his bottom lip. He'd never done anything like this before, so much contact and yet none at all, but there was something soothing about the rhythm of it

Eduardo bit Mark again when he came, harder this time, and Mark's breath caught in his throat at the hot, sharp sting of it. He shook his head wordlessly when Eduardo apologized, nose brushing Eduardo's cheek.

He didn't want that apology.

"Did you—" Eduardo's voice broke. He cleared his throat, the color high on his cheeks.

Mark rolled off him. He rubbed lazily at his eye with one fist. "You should stay for breakfast," he said.

"I can't, I have to—Mark. Did you?"

Mark considered him a moment. He had that set in his jaw that said he wasn't about to back down from this one, the same one he'd had when he'd asked, "Mark, just how long were you in contact with Tyler and Cameron Winklevoss before you went to Student Legal Services?"

"No," Mark said grudgingly. "Just, would you—it's not a big deal. It's just sex."

The corners of Eduardo's mouth turned down. "Just sex?"

"Yeah," said Mark. Sometimes he wondered if Eduardo listened to a word he put out into the world. "Relax."

Eduardo stared at him. "I don't know if I can—just sex," he repeated, the inflection in his voice odd. Mark could feel this conversation getting away from him in that frustrating way they had of doing. He sat up.

"Relax," he said again, turning away. "And stay for breakfast."

Terms of Service (2b/?)


Senior year, Mark had run for study body president of Phillips Exeter. The inspiration had struck him one day, his head teeming with possibilities about social interaction, about communication with the administration, about extracurriculars. He'd presented his platform concisely and confidently, because that's what he'd been: confident. Mark had assumed that they would look at him and see, would listen to him and hear.

He'd lost impressively. He'd barely registered, the ultimate slap in the face. Mark could handle being reviled, he could deal with being unapproachable—liked it, even, most of the time—but being ignored made a part of him turn ugly, turn dark. It wasn't that he wasn't good enough for other people: it was that other people weren't good enough for him.

It hadn't exactly been a blow to his self-esteem. The opinion of the undereducated masses didn't define him, and as the only one of them to have been approached by Microsoft in fucking high school, he was assured of his own superiority. Ultimately, he'd learned a practical lesson: the world was an ass-backwards place. It wasn't what you said but how you said it, or how you looked saying it. If you got dressed in the dark and told the football players that their academic exceptions were favoritism, you were going to lose.

There was no part of him that was willing to compromise his integrity for likability, and so in contests of popularity, he would never be the victor. If they judged his character, they would find him lacking. He wasn't, but their criterion was faulty, and in the end, well, that's all that mattered.

The point was, it was a waste of his time not to say what was on his mind. It prompted a genuine reaction in people, exposed whatever jagged truth was hiding beneath layer after layer of bullshit. If he held his tongue, it was because it wasn't worth his time.

But he tried, this time. Because Eduardo had asked.

"Mark!" Eduardo called as Mark shuffled toward the door. The Winkelvoss twins pushed around Mark without acknowledgement as he fell back to wait for Eduardo. He bounded up to Mark and then stopped suddenly short, as if he were unsure of his welcome, as if he hadn't backed Mark against the counter this morning and shoved his tongue in Mark's mouth.

Which, for the record, he had. Mark recalled that bit vividly.

"Yeah," said Mark, nodding.

Eduardo smiled. "You did really well today. I appreciate your cooperation, you know."

"You appreciate it," Mark said dryly. "You appreciate my cooperation. My legal representation appreciates—"

Eduardo cut him off with a laugh. "Mark, come on."

Mark cocked his head. "Come where?" he asked.

"I thought maybe..." Eduardo waved a hand vaguely. "You know. Well. You know."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mark said, "I thought we were being professional."

Reaching out to straighten Mark's tie (fine, whatever, it probably wouldn't irrevocably injure him to wear a tie this once—probably—but he'd be fucked if he were going to learn how to tie it properly just for this, and anyway, if Eduardo was so worried about it, he could have stuck around after breakfast like Mark had suggested), Eduardo ducked close to Mark's ear and murmured, "I'm professionally interested in taking that tie off you right now, Mark."

"That might make you a prostitute," Mark pointed out. "As per the technical specifications of the word."

"I'd be a obscenely expensive prostitute."

Mark bit back a grin. "I can't," he said. "We're working on an update. It was put on the back burner while I was sitting around indulging the pecuniary whims of the privileged."

"I think by most standards, you are the privileged," said Eduardo.

"Whatever," Mark dismissed.

Eduardo gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Call me later?"

Mark shrugged, non-committal as he mentally calculated the number of hours he'd need, and said, "Maybe."


Terms of Service (2c/?)


He did, though, three red bulls and a coffee later, trying to listen to the echo of the phone ringing over the buzzing in his ears. And then it connected and Eduardo asked, "Hello?" and it maybe sounded like he'd been asleep, but Mark didn't give a shit, just spat, "I want him out, I need him out" and gritted his teeth against the onslaught of words that wanted to follow.

There was a beat. "Mark?" Eduardo said.

"Obviously," Mark snapped.

Mark heard the creak of bed springs. "Where are you?" asked Eduardo.

"What does it matter, the office, that's not the point," Mark replied. "I need him—"

"You need him out, yeah, you said," Eduardo said. "Look, Mark, sit tight. I'm gonna come over there."

That would take so much time. He'd hoped they could do this over the phone, have it all wrapped up to the point where he wouldn't have to think about it anymore. He shouldn't have to think about it at all, not when Facebook still needed updating; not ever, really, it was a ridiculous waste of his intellect. "That's not necessary," he said, ready to explain all of this, but Eduardo sighed down the line and said, "I'll be there in fifteen" and hung up.

Mark wondered if maybe this was why you weren't supposed to sleep with employees.

He tried to wire in, but it was difficult when he couldn't keep his knees from jiggling, when he had to ball his hands into fists to alleviate the tremors, and so one moment he was glaring at the computer screen, and the next Eduardo's hand was brushing against his shoulder.

Mark jerked. "Don't touch me."

Eduardo acquiesced, backing away with his palms upward. "I'm here," he said.

"Yes," said Mark, clipped.

Eduardo settled on the floor, crossing his legs. Mark blinked and shook his head at the sight of his lawyer cross-legged on the office floor in a pair of pajama pants. "You're not wearing a suit," he said, a bit insipidly.

"It's one o'clock in the morning," Eduardo said. "Mark, what's going on?"

"Sean," said Mark, because that just about covered it.

Eduardo perked up. "Sean Parker?" There was something in his tone that made Mark wary.


"Napster's Sean Paker?" Eduardo prompted.

"He didn't invent Napster," said Mark, disgusted. "He co-founded Napster—"

Eduardo said, "With Shawn and John Fanning, yeah, I know. I knew he was a part of Facebook's development, but I didn't realize he had much involvement in the site anymore. What's going on?"

Mark spun his chair and snatched a heavily creased piece of paper from his desk, thrusting it out to Eduardo. Eduardo took it, straightening it, and read. After a moment, he looked up at Mark.

"Isn't this something Facebook's lawyers should be handling? And the PR department?"

"I want your advice," Mark said. "There must be some way to, whatever, dilute his shares or something. This is—I don't—he can't be involved anymore. He can't be a part of Facebook after this."

"Mark," said Eduardo, a gentle hesitance to his voice. "This hasn't happened before?"

And Mark knew what he was asking, and yeah, of course it had. Criticizing Facebook was the hobby of countless vision-less yuppies worldwide, but— "Not someone who put down five hundred dollars in start-up cash and expanded thefacebook to five states, I don't—I thought he understood, but he doesn't. He can't be speaking for Facebook like this."

Eduardo held the paper back out to him. 'Co-Founder Sean Parker Trashes Facebook's New Features,' read the headline in bold print before Mark snatched it and shoved it back onto his desk face-down. He crossed his arms over his chest and clenched his jaw, tried to breathe normally in the face of Eduardo's concern.

Eduardo put out a hand. "Come here?" he asked.

Terms of Service (2d/?) - (Anonymous), 2012-03-15 08:17 am (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Terms of Service (2d/?) - (Anonymous), 2012-03-15 09:05 am (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Terms of Service (2d/?) - (Anonymous), 2012-03-15 10:18 am (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Terms of Service (2d/?) - (Anonymous), 2012-03-15 10:28 am (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Terms of Service (2d/?) - skyearth85, 2012-03-15 11:08 am (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Terms of Service (2d/?) - doodlelover, 2012-03-15 03:25 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Terms of Service (2d/?) - popsongnation, 2012-03-15 03:29 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Terms of Service (2d/?) - (Anonymous), 2012-03-18 01:35 am (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Terms of Service (2d/?) - (Anonymous), 2012-03-18 11:27 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Note from the writer - (Anonymous), 2012-03-25 10:55 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Note from the writer - (Anonymous), 2012-03-25 10:57 pm (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Note from the writer - (Anonymous), 2012-05-07 12:39 am (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Terms of Service (2d/?) - (Anonymous), 2012-03-27 12:10 am (UTC)(Expand)
Re: Terms of Service (2d/?) - (Anonymous), 2012-06-12 06:01 pm (UTC)(Expand)