easy password

guys please stop

i know what happened, and if you really want to hate someone, hate me, because its my fault for having a very easy password and for getting hacked
if i was more careful, this wouldnt have happened
so please, stop hating on liz and hate on me, i really deserve it anyways, i dont mind
-aly

Our Love Ballad
  • Featuring: Eisuke Ichinomiya from Kissed By The Baddest Bidder
  • Rating: M
  • Requested By: @xcoticallyxquizit , as part of my 850 followers giveaway.
  • Author’s Note: I have no words. xD Please enjoy this. 

Eisuke walked into the penthouse suite, raking his fingers through his hair. It hadn’t been a long day, but there were certain people he entertained who tested his patience. What he wanted to do was hold Miharu’s soft and alluring body in his arms. To kiss her, to make love to her. Now, where was his woman? His eyes darted about the room. He was certain she had the day off today. Was he going to find her on her iPad again, playing that game? She recently became obsessed with an otome app, where she was able to romance samurai.

He recalled the incredulous look he had on his face when she explained the game to him. Daily love passes. Pearls. The story made her cry at times. Why was she tormenting herself? That being said, loving him wasn’t easy either. Eisuke stopped in front of the couch, where Miharu was fast asleep. Her iPad was on her stomach. Eisuke chuckled, amused at the sight. Picking up the iPad, he placed it on the table, heading into the bedroom. Taking a blanket, he returned to his wife, covering her.

“Milord…” She mumbled. “Lord Eisuke…”

Eisuke stopped short. Lord? She was even dreaming about it. Wait, was she dreaming about him as a samurai? Or was there someone with his name in the game? Huh. Eisuke grabbed the iPad, determined to find out for himself. Besides, even if there wasn’t, he was going to take great pleasure in punishing her. Guessing her password was easy enough. Typing that in, he settled himself into the armchair next to her, continuing the game.

For the next couple of hours, various mutterings could be heard from Eisuke.

“No more love passes. What do you mean no more love passes?”

“Chemistry? Down? I demand another turn.”

“What is this fever nonsense…?”

“Pearls? Why do I need eight pearls for a damned kimono?”

“No more pearls? Now I know why she’s so fixated with pearls. I’ll just get her a couple hundred of them.”

“What are skill points?” Eisuke frowned when he reached the divine ending and found that he lacked several thousand.

“Eisuke!” Miharu’s panicked voice caused him to snap his head up.

“What?” He asked nonchalantly.

“What are you doing?” She practically snatched the iPad from his hands, frantically checking the app.

Eisuke’s eyebrows creased, the jealousy he felt when reading the story started to make its way to the surface.

“What happened to my love passes?!” Miharu raised her voice and she turned away from him. “…four hundred and fifty pearls?! No, what did you do?” She sounded like she was about to cry. “No, my money…”

“You’re the wife of a billionaire, you don’t have to worry about that small amount of money.” Eisuke clicked his tongue at her.

“But…” Her back was still facing him.

“Were you picturing me as that ninja?” Eisuke stood up, going over to her and spinning her around.

“N-no.” She shook her head.

“Oh? I heard you moaning Lord Eisuke earlier.” Her cheeks became the distinct shade of red that he loved.

“I wasn’t moaning!”

“How would you know? You were pulling at your clothes, eager to get them off.” Her mouth flew open, and he chuckled.

“It’s your fault!” Miharu pouted, before fleeing from his arms to the bedroom.

Eisuke only smirked. The bedroom? Was that an invitation? He followed her, not even bothering to shut the door behind them. As if anyone was going to enter. He found her sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at the iPad. With the amount of money he had, he was able to buy her hundreds of those. But she insisted on getting one with her money. Typical.

Eisuke pushed her down onto the bed, his fingers trailing up her thighs, slipping underneath her skirt. Her lips found his instantly, hungry for him. Her fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer. Their breaths intertwined as they kissed, the temperature between their bodies rising.

“I missed you.” Miharu moaned, her hands sliding down his back. “Lonely…” She gasped when he sucked on her neck, leaving a bright red spot where she wasn’t going to be able to hide it.

“I know.” Eisuke was well aware of how busy he was over the last few weeks. Hence, him coming back earlier today. “Mm, how about you beg Lord Eisuke to make love to you?”

“Milord…” She whimpered.

Eisuke’s lips curled up, satisfied with how she sounded. He might even have gotten a thrill of pleasure from that single word. “What do you need, Miharu?”

“I need you. Right now.”

“Not mad anymore, are we?” He brushed his lips tantalisingly over hers, his fingers seeking out the heat between her legs.

A seductive smile appeared on Miharu’s face, the next words she spoke only serving as a reminder that she was the only woman who affected him this much.

“That’ll depend on your performance, Milord.”


  • Enjoyed this story? Check out my masterpost for more!
Brown Hair. (Part 8 to Red Hair)

(Hii everyone!! Here’s part 8 !! Thank you so much for all of the wonderful and loving feedback !! I cannot express my gratitude enough !! ❤❤

Warnings: Same as before.

Disclaimer: I don’t own mystic Messenger or any of its characters. This is purely for entertainment purposes!

Enjoy~!!

-SxW)

Brown hair.

She hated her hair color.

Plain and unattractive. Not warm and inviting.

A dull, dead look, she always thought it made her plain features even worse, but no other color, would suit her face either.

That’s why she was so hypnotized, by the vibrant red, that Saeyoung bore.

Her heart was thumping painfully, each beat making her wish it would have stopped once this all began, so she wouldn’t have to feel this way.

It hurt so badly, to see proof that she was only second rate.

She never marked Saeyoung like that, she was always too embarrassed, to have left marks.

It was only once, when their passion was at its peak, did he hold any sort of evidence of their connection.

And now?

It was just another reminder that she would never be enough.

That her love, wasn’t enough to keep him.

She didn’t feel it this time, the tears streaming down her face, she was too numb to it all. She didn’t notice Saeyoung speaking, she didn’t notice Saeran’s grip get tighter, to the point it normally would have hurt, no. She couldn’t feel anything at all.

Anything except the gaping hole in her chest get bigger and bigger.

~Jumin~

He was seeing red.

The security code let him in, after a rather easy guess at the password in Arabic.

He silently thanked MC, for that silly conversation they shared, where she let slip the password because of its ridiculousness.

He knocked politely before walking inside, before freezing at the scene in front of him.

There she was, frozen, her eyes glued on a nearly naked Saeyoung, who was littered in marks of his betrayal, and tears continually dripped down her colorless cheeks.

Saeran had her in a death grip, he could see the indentations of his fingers in her skin.

Saeyoung was frozen, halfway turned towards him, and towards her, a slightly aggravated look on his face.

“Jumin? Why are you–”

“I’m rather grateful, that I came myself, to return your purse, instead of sending Assistant Kang.”

Her eyes slowly flickered to him, before slowly glancing at the bag in his hands, and his hands were trembling.

“I’m going to give you one chance to let her go, before I call my security, and have you both taken away”

The fury in his voice made it clear, that he wasn’t joking around.

Saeran was about to sneer a response, when he felt her slowly begin to tug herself out of his grip, and he stared at her when he let go.

“MC…?”

It was Saeyoung who spoke. He slowly stepped towards her, “what’s…?”

“Jumin…” her voice was trembling, “Th-Thank you for bringing my things back…especially since I know you’re very busy with your projects…” She sent him a shaky smile. But he wasn’t having it.

“Come back with me.”

Wait, what?

“What…?”

“Come back with me, please.”

She could have sworn, her heart really did stop.

Some of you may be familiar with passwords. Heck, you might have even used one to log onto this website in order to leave a mean comment below. Right now, pretty much every service you use requires a password. Most sites and services will not allow you to use an easy-to-guess password and instead will make you pick a good password which contains at least eight characters, with at least one uppercase, one lowercase and one number or special symbol. So you can’t use ‘shrekfan’ as a password. Instead, you get creative and use something like $hrekF4n to throw a hacker off the scent.

Passphrases are similar to passwords, only instead of using letters, numbers and symbols, you would make your code a phrase of random words. These are near impossible to brute-force depending on the length. Take a look at this delightfully colorful chart which works out how long it would take to “guess” a password based on how complicated it is.

Passphrases sound great in theory but they have the same issues that most other forms of password carry: users tend to pick something easy to remember vs. something difficult to guess. If it’s easy for you to remember, it’s easier for the bad guys to guess. Unfortunately, due to humans being humans, passwords and passphrases don’t offer the protection needed to keep your info safe. So what else is there?

5 Reasons Why Passwords Are Useless

I Can Be Brave

So a while ago Nina and I set to talking about this post, and started crafting an elaborately detailed AU based off it. 

And when I opened prompts? She challenged me to actually write a part of it. So I did. 

Background information for those of you at home: no magic AU, Dystopia AU, seriously fucked up social structure based off castes. There are three official casts–gold, silver, and bronze, plus the casteless, who basically have no rights or protections. 

Hopefully that’s enough! 

Hermione Granger was eleven years old the first time she met Ron Weasley.

She was going to a tiny little inner-city school at the time; a cramped place with not enough desks and even fewer text books. Ron Weasley was tall for his age and had hair that looked like it only had been tended to by a wet comb as he ran out of the door, with a spray of freckles that seemed to run from his hands, up the length of his arms, up his neck and all over his face.

He sat three desks to her left in history class, and argued. His seat partner was a scrawny little boy named Harry Evans, with wild, wavy, thick black hair and brilliantly green eyes that Hermione had never thought existed outside of storybooks.

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kimheenim:someone is giving me bad vibes since morning..in the past i deactivated my facebook account already..when lee donghae got hacked,i made fun of him saying “your password is that easy that’s why you got hacked,stupid ㅋㅋㅋㅋ ” but…auntie ~add the king of stupid here!!since i am not me from my younger days..i won’t curse anymore!!shaking…my LOL account got hacked too..shaking ..#pleaserecommendmeadifficultpassword ㅅㅈㄴㄷ늗ᆞ짓ㄱㅈㅂㅊㅁㄷ@-:^□ cant tag the kids (members)!!kanginie is kanginnim,donghae is leedonghae1015,gunhee is gunheenim ,hyukjae is eunhyuk0404..is that right?? 

Heechul commented on his photo: Yah. What are the kids’ IDs? (members)

Leeteul left a comment on heechul’s IG:I am special_JS1004 (c)

anonymous asked:

Bellarke prompt 'SERIOUSLY! Are you using my Wifi again, how do you know the password?'

this took me an EMBARRASSINGLY long time to get to, but i adore this prompt so thank you so much lovely for sending it in 


let me in;

read on ao3

Fact: the WiFi in the apartment complex Bellamy lives in is absolute, utter shit. 

Within the first two days of him moving in, he purchases his own router, because he has his doctoral thesis he has to finish as soon as possible, and it’s nearly impossible to write an eloquent but factual novel-length essay about ancient Greece with no Internet. Like, he understands people did do that before, but for fuck’s sake. It’s the twenty-first century. He doesn’t have time for this.

So, he buys his own router, sets it up and adds a password - because damn it if he’s going to spend the money to alleviate this shitty WiFi situation and have the entire complex mooching off of it. Octavia mocks him for it, claiming, “Bell, this is basically the 2015 version of an old man screaming ‘get off my lawn.’”

“Yeah, well,” he mutters as he tests the connection, “I don’t want them on my fucking lawn. My lawn is beautiful.”

She laughs at him and steals another package of his Ramen, as if she doesn’t already have fifteen boxes at home. (They’re very established in adulthood, clearly.) 

The joys of wonderful, working, fast WiFi last about two weeks before the connection starts getting slower, and slower, and slower - until, eventually, it won’t even let him connect half the time. 

It drives him fucking crazy

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Y’all:

I want a man to be so in love with me that he buys me an engagement ring after we’ve only been dating a little while (NOTE: I DON’T WANT HIM TO PROPOSE THAT EARLY THOUGH).

I want a man to be so in love with me that his dumbass gets his computer hacked because all of his passwords are easy to guess because they’re about me.

I want a man to be so in love with me that if he goes out with his boys or goes on vacation with his boys or something, by the last day they’re telling him to just take his ass home because he misses me and won’t shut up about it. 

I want a man to be so in love with me that I don’t even have to say shit for him to know what I’m thinking (NOTE: I know no man is a mindreader. I just mean….)

I want a man to be so in love with me that he takes the time to notice the little things that give away how I’m feeling or what I’m thinking (when it’s possible to tell). 

I want a man to be so in love with me that it’s literally impossible for me to ever feel inadequate as a significant other again because my heart is so full due to the way he treats me.

I want us to be so in love with each other that we end up on some “jinx” type shit all the time because we’re usually thinking the same thing. 

I just want a nice, wholesome, jealousy-inducing love.

I want to be one of those couples that people are like, “Wow, goals” about and they’re deadass right. Like, it’s not a facade. It’s real life. I want to be real life relationship goals for every-damn-body.