#forum theme

[ohdaylight]

Header alternatif pour https://onelife.forumactif.com/ - non choisi car c'est la saison pour quelque chose de plus doux & avec la sortie de TTPD il nous fallait des couleurs différentes. J'aime beaucoup ces compos néanmoins.

[kiyomez]

header en libre service - thème la guerre des clans / chats / animalier

envoyez moi un message pour avoir le thème complet et/ou demander des modifications

si vous souhaitez l’utiliser merci de fav/rt le post

[ntrlily]

But really the OS on the first computer I ran was WinXP but I thought the default theme was fucking hideous so the first thing I did was switch it to the win95 theme and then I completely forgot that that was the win95 theme.

[adrastee-rpg]

planche design / accessibilité

Bonjour/bonsoir ! J'suis pas un modèle pour tout ce qui concerne l'accessibilité pour les forums, c'est un sujet sur lequel je travaille au quotidien et pour lequel je tente de m'améliorer sur les sites internet que je design mais je me disais, si on travaillait ensemble pour améliorer tout cela ? (bon ne me mettez pas au bûcher si vous allez sur mon forum et que vous le trouvez pas assez accessible, comme dit, j'suis pas la plus compétente dans ce domaine et j'améliore au fur et à mesure) Je me disais que je pourrais proposer des planches de page d'accueil, catégories, full forum pour qu'ensemble on voit ce qu'il faut vraiment faire évoluer. Je me dis que parfait, les gens ont juste besoin d'un peu d'aide ! D'ailleurs, si jamais il y a des gens qui veulent partager leur forum pour voir comment on pourrait retravailler le tout pour le rendre plus accessible n'hésitez pas ! Je reprends la base design mais j'apporte mes conseils en vous offrant un visuel que vous pourrez utiliser pour une version future. On est pas là pour juger, on est là pour s'entraider et nous améliorer. (bon, après, peut-être que vous trouverez cela nul comme idée, ou que je ne suis pas légitime pour le faire.. mais j'propose, sait on jamais)

PS : je recherche la personne qui a fait un post sur l'aide à l'accessibilité en donnant son avis sur nos forums. J'ai très envie d'échanger avec cette personne mais je ne retrouve pas le post en question. Si vous l'avez, pouvez vous me le partager ?

[lobotomyladylives]

my tracklist btw (: all are finished lyric wise I just need to write the actual music lol. I have the melodies in my head but not on paper.

[entourage-themes]

¡Muchas gracias de nuevo, Ro, por la comisión! ♥♥ Me encanta la vibra aesthetic de la saga de Percy Jackson ¡Disfrútala mucho! — 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓼

[endofthe1980s]

Lol thank you to everyone who joined the forums ^_^ i hope this is the start of something great

[nowayout-rpg]

NO WAY OUT | VERSION 2 (maj)

Nous sommes ravies de vous présenter la première maj du forum. Cette deuxième version est signée Scylla, le header et les avatars ont été réalisés grâce aux ressources graphiques de @cavalierfou (gif et citation du header, police principale, texture de fleurs et squelette de l'avatar admin) qu'on remercie énormément pour ça (vous pourrez trouver ces pépites dans son pack d'halloween)

Le reste des crédits n'a pas changé par rapport à la première version du forum et vous pourrez les retrouver dans leur intégralité sur le forum ou dans ce billet. Le codage est issu du blank-theme de @gp-kim et de codes en libre service de @iceaxdfire ; avoir accès à des ressources aussi merveilleuses est une chance inouïe

𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐕𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐄́𝐒

— Un mini event de Noël et son rp commun, plus propice qu'une grosse intrigue en cette période de fin d'année (on remercie fort nos membres d'avoir pris le temps de répondre au questionnaire que nous avions mis en place pour préparer cette maj d'ailleurs et qui nous a permis de cerner les attentes de chacun·e)

— Des animations hors rp pour celleux n'ayant pas le temps ou l'envie de participer au rp commun ; une loterie avec des lots à gagner pour son personnage inrp et une chasse aux cadeaux (à défaut de pouvoir offrir de vrais cadeaux à nos membres blblbl)

— Une nouvelle annexe courte et récapitulative sur la situation dans le reste du monde (qui reprend les informations imaginées par les membres dans leurs fiches de présentation sur les autres zones de quarantaine ou communautés)

nowayout.forumactif.com

[lightnersdream]

fofr my entire internet career i have been "the (character) guy"

[whatlandremembers]

🎉🎉🎉 OUVERTURE DE WLR 🎉🎉🎉

D-DAY pour What Land Remembers ! Nous sommes très fières de vous présenter enfin notre petit bébé, fruit de plusieurs longs mois de travail et qui nous tient vraiment beaucoup à coeur ! ❤️

ACCÈS AU FORUM ◇ DISCORD ◇ ZONE INVITÉS

ALORS, WLR C'EST QUOI ? 

C'est un forum d'inspi medieval fantasy, mais aussi steampunk, et un mélange de tout ce que les admins aiment comme univers (lotr, wow, got, arcane...). C'est un univers complétement inventé avec des touches de plein de choses (qu'on trouve) stylées.

Ce forum se veut vraiment être un moment de bonne humeur, de rpg, de rencontres et d'histoires trop chouettes qu'on va créer ensemble. Notre vision du rpg c'est vraiment : UN HOBBY, un truc qu'on fait quand on veut, qu'on a l'inspi et surtout du partage !  Le mot d'ordre ici, c'est CHILL, on veut vraiment que chacun d'entre vous puissiez vous sentir comme chez vous, sans pression, sans sentiment d'obligation, bref juste du fun, du fun et puis du fun aussi ! 

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Iron Maiden –  Run To The Hills

[kiyomez]

header en libre service - thème harry potter / magie / fantastique / sorcières

envoyez moi un message pour demander des modifications

si vous souhaitez l’utiliser merci de fav/rt le post

[code-lab]

Hey !

Retrouvez les détails de la mise à jour du Blank sur ce patch note.

Partagez des tutoriels et des ressources

Les sections tutoriels et ressources sont ouvertes à tous ! Elles attendent votre participation pour s'agrandir et faire profiter à un plus grand nombre nos connaissances 👏

N'importe qui peut poster ce qui lui semble être utile. Pas besoin de tutoriel à rallonge pour des codes hyper poussés. Vous utilisez un petit bout de code partout que vous trouvez utile ? Partagez-le !

Voici les tutoriels que l'on peut déjà retrouver :

Héberger du CSS extérieur

Utiliser les variables CSS

Sélecteurs CSS

Créer une balise de trigger

Utiliser la couleur du groupe sur le profil

Changer l'apparence d'un sujet d'annexe

Personnaliser une catégorie selon son état ou son type

Ajouter le module des derniers sujets

Modifier le texte par défaut de Forumactif

Personnaliser l'affichage du dernier message des catégories

J'insiste encore mais toute participation est la bienvenue ! Il n'y a rien de plus motivant que des efforts partagés afin d'améliorer la communauté.

Me soutenir

Comme toujours, j'apprécie énormément votre soutien sous toutes ses formes. 🙏 Je rappelle également que j'ai un Kofi sur lequel vous trouvez des codes supplémentaires plus travaillés et documentés pour le Blank Theme ✨

[vasiktomis]

Catboy Crozier Asks Fitzjames to Poll Him

Secret Santa Gift for @sherwood-forests, a dear friend, a sublime writer, and haver of really good taste in sad old men <3

Pairing: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames. Rating: Teen and Up (I GUESS?). Word Count: ~2000. Tags: Character study in the style of catboy fic, James sees a furry and gets gender envy, I studied far too much Presbytarianism for this, Rated T because they're all dying of scurvy and The Madness. Read it on Ao3 Here!

_________________________________

Something is wrong with the Captain, James is convinced. 

Were it not for the passing sickness of thirst, Francis’s recovery might have seen him in a better spot, standing out on the deck, attempting to fill the late Sir John’s shoes with a sermon from the man’s pocket bible to mark the end of the workday. 

The only issue is: even out here, on the pack, in the blistering wind, in recovery — Francis is in nowhere near the shape James had anticipated. 

“- …And when he polled the hair of his head — for at the end of every year he used to poll it. It’d get so long that it’d become heavy and he’d cut it — he weighed the hair of his head. Two hundred shekels by the king’s weight.”

Somewhere in the back of the crew, there’s a whisper. “What’s a shekel?”

Another whisper: “Currency, daft bastard.”

Another, more recognisable considering he’d only heard the man speak minutes prior. Soft. Considerate. Goodsir. “It’s a measurement of weight.”

Jumping to maintain the pride of his superior, James casts a look in the direction of the whispering. It ceases, and silence coats The Terror once again. 

“Then it’s just a whole lot of corn and kisses if I’m being honest.” Francis shuts the book, hard. Social confidence lost to the gale.

To the vast majority of the crew, the Captain’s discomfort might seem no more severe than usual. The vast majority of the crew don’t see the man behind closed doors. No one is quite so privy to the man’s personal suffering as the acquaintance James has reluctantly taken up. Harry has a certain talent for feeling it in the air beyond all his studies, but not even the medical staff see as much of the man as James.

He knows this man. 

He knows something is wrong. 

His skin, leathered from the open wind and the salt of sea spray does have a rosier glow than James had previously observed. Usually the hue is reserved for his nose; a blaring announcement of a secret badly hidden. Now? Pink dusts his cheeks like a newborn. Healthy, James might call it. Far more than what their diet lately would allow. On the topic of diet, Francis’s uniform sits less tailored than typically. Tight around the hips and thighs like a woman — or the closest imitation he’s seen of a woman since Lady Silence.

It stirs thoughts that go beyond concern, and although the mood on deck is remarkably dull, James breaks away to concentrate his gaze on the horizon, to something less scandalous. Dare he say, enviable. 

There’s just no air of sickness about Crozier whatsoever.

Either he’s going out of his way to hide a wound, or Harry has been administering a means to control Francis’s pain.

“Erm…”

The Captain is a fish out of water standing before an audience, much less with a book in his hand. Sir John was at his most natural in this state by comparison; leading from the head, fuelling morale with passion and ambition and above all, devout Christianity. The hierarchy of it all stuck to him like varnish. Francis, meanwhile, offered none of this. Not to say that James hadn’t grown to respect Francis’s operation from within the crew, leading viscerally, escaping eye-contact by busying himself with his hands. Presumably Presbyterian. Clearly he’s never read a verse to anyone but himself. Clearly, he’s never spoken to such a large group of men who weren’t too busy to look upon him while they listened. 

It’s painful. Enough to distract from the ache in his gums and the chill biting at his ungloved fingertips. 

“What did Franklin do with these?” Francis asks, hitting a wall with the story he’s chosen. James leans down to his ear. 

“He liked to draw daily lessons from his readings.”

“Yes. Alright. -…and let this be a reflection that Absalom might not have known the sailor’s — erm — aptitude for lice. So let’s remember our standards and remain… polled.”

James has been Francis’s Second long enough to know that he’s angling for a joke. No one laughs until he himself cracks an amused smile, habit drawing him onto his toes to weigh in.

“Perhaps if we should be beaten by the pack, we might earn ourselves a living in a few hundred pounds of hair.”

That gets a chuckle. Not because it’s funny; just because James is better-liked. From the way Francis’s shoulders sag, he’s not certain if it’s sadness at knowing this, or relief that he’s no longer being looked at.

“As you were. Warm meal awaits.” There’s a little half-wave from Francis. He’s turning tiredly, more than ready to make his escape. “First Officer Fitzjames. With me.” 

— As if the other man wasn’t already striding two steps behind him, dipping his nose a tad to dodge the wooden stop overhead as they make their way to — and through — the lower deck. In the cramped corridor, the Captain’s wake envelopes his Second. It’s a new form of intoxicating, veering off and away from whatever deep spirits Francis can sneak away from the Erebus. A powdered scent carried on perfumed oils and polished silver, carrying him for a moment back to more distinguished moments in his career. There are no pleasant smells aboard the Franklin Expedition, James reminds himself. Must be a vapour off whatever Harry has snuck into the Captain’s system to have him so functional.  

They enter the Captain’s cabin. Francis speeds up, as if he can’t find the bowels of his retreat quick enough. The man winces as he takes a seat, blinking through a pain sharp enough that James’s shoulders tighten at the sight alone. 

He’s suffering far more than he’s been letting on.

It’s a humiliating affair, even carried out alone. What would otherwise have been a night of drink, reduced to observing his own mortality. The weight that he would have to distribute amongst his closest subordinates lest he bear an even more humiliating recovery should he not be able to swallow his own pride. 

There’s a long look exchanged. James, expectant. Francis, not budging.

Ridiculous .

James is halfway to the door when Francis’s head inclines minutely. Conceding the minutest of defeats. Almost praying that such an action would go unseen. That his Second would simply leave without noticing. Not James. There’s nothing about Francis that can escape him. Initially such focus had been out of spite; then gradually, respect, before he’d found admiration to stoke.

He holds onto the spite. It keeps him sharp about the other man. Where blind appreciation led him to believe Sir John infallible, he knows how valuable a keen eye is when it comes to someone so familiar with obscurity.

It’s what has him shutting the door before he’s even opened it an inch. Turning on his heel to stand and watch expectantly.

Francis doesn’t meet his eye. Not right away. Not until James has made his annoyance clear enough in his expression for the other man to read. 

“There is…something you deserve to know.”

James’s stomach drops, but he otherwise maintains an air of impatience. “Does Harry know?” They both know what kind of probe it is. Medical. 

His response comes in a curt nod, and for it, James rejoins Francis at the table. 

“You’re not wounded.” He probes again. “You’ve been recovering from your sickness well enough. If anything, you look healthier than you did at launch.”

“You spend a good deal of time watching me rather than your own crew.” Francis clips back at him. Good thing he didn’t mention the man’s hips, James reflects. Knuckles rap once, twice on the tabletop, and then: “…Sorry.”

“For God’s sake, Francis, just tell me what it is.”

The Captain glares into the middle distance for a long moment. Then he glares at James for just as long. He reaches back, up beneath the underside of his uniform, wincing as he tugs something from his undershirt that doesn’t make itself immediately known. Not until Francis’s attention moves to his cap, gingerly lifting it from his head.

Ears. 

Not human. Feline. Rooted amongst the mess of flattened, thinning hair. 

James can only gawk while the man places his hat on the table, lining it up neatly beside the discarded scissors. An apparent tail flicks in impatience. 

A tail.

The Captain has a tail. 

“Well say something , James!”

The First Officer stammers — a rare event — before finding his words. “Are those yours?” 

“Are they mine? What — are they mine? Use your eyes! Evidently so! They’re bloody well fused to me.” 

He takes a tentative step forward. Then, finding his knees a little wobbly, James slumps into the seat adjoining the other man. “And — erm — Harry knows about… this.” He gestures vaguely at the rather regal tail touching the floorboards between them. 

“You know he’s that dreadful curious sort. ‘Remarkable’ , he called it.” Francis replies, disdained. 

That doesn’t sit well on the palette. No one called Francis Crozier: an Irish, stubborn, drunkard remarkable. Not at least until James was forced to fill Sir John’s role by his side and get to know the man, for God’s sake. Not that he’s verbalised the opinion. 

It’s just —

It’s envy .

Harry’s already well-liked just for being agreeable with the man. He’s soft in a fairytale Good British Men sort of way. Why does he get to call the Captain remarkable when the term would mean so little coming from someone in already such high esteem? 

“Fitzjames.” Francis pulls him out of his thoughts, inclining his head just slightly; just enough that James can make out a little scabbed nick at the  base of one of those remarkable ears. “I need you to get rid of them.”

James’s gaze is pulled down to the scissors. They weren’t discarded. They were laid out for him. “You want me to-…”

“I’m too much a coward to do it myself, James. I’ve tried it. I’m asking you — do this for me. Get rid of the damn things.” Francis insists, nearing desperation. Then, with a touch of awkwardness — perhaps an attempt to make light of his situation: “Poll me.”

The chuckle James offers is absent of amusement. “Sir John would be delighted to hear you use one of the daily lessons according to his habits.”

Francis’s fuzzy ears angle lower, marking just how unimpressed he is with such a statement.

It’s rather endearing. 

It is envy, he’s sure. No revulsion or vicious amusement or anything of the sort. He wants to feel that way, for his own sake and for the sake of the man he’d far prefer to feel only disdain for. Yet, it only manifests in the sort of concern one reserves for adored schoolmates, and in envy. The thought nags at the back of his mind: what if this is contagious in its benefits? What use would there be in vanquishing such a turn?

Moments pass. The scissors, though offered, go untouched. 

“I’d call this insubordination.” Francis ventures to threaten.

“No, it’s madness.” James retorts. “I’m not going to carve into you. Far worse has occurred and you’ve managed to hide it-“

“How in God’s name!” Francis snaps, “Can this be hidden?”

It might have been mistaken for an outburst. A firm hand toward a lesser officer. No, Francis is far more frightening when he’s sincerely angry. This is a tantrum, and James has learned to parent it. 

“What I mean is, perhaps you might consider waiting. From the sounds of it, the affliction hasn’t spread. Whatever condition this is, there may be more benefits to come.” He pauses to consider the risk of his next words. “How is your thirst?”

“I’ve not had any taste for it. The illness all but left me when this change came about.”

“Any other aversions?”

“Not yet seen.”

“That’s alright. Nothing a layer of cheese won’t help.”

“You’re not funny in the slightest.”

James would disagree, but the Captain looks so forlorn about this whole debacle that he deems it wiser just to keep to himself this time. “I’ll bring you something from the kitchen,” He offers, turning to depart, “and allow you to stew, in lieu of marinating.” 

“You’re not funny.”

Francis rises from his seat to acknowledge such a departure. He does not, however, say anything. Not until James has reached the door. 

“Broth sounds nice.”

“And what about a saucer?” James jests.

He is met with a scowl. Francis’s knuckles rap on the table. His lovely tail whips in irritation — or perhaps thought.

His Captain leans forward, fixed on him beneath a heavy, knitted brow.

“You will tell no one of this.”

“Saucer it is.”

[eridork-ampora]

dude howw the glub do i change the colors

[duckapus]

Corrupted Save File AU

Someone or something tries to put Emulator on the Factory Reset Bandwagon, but the rather unique nature of her existence means that something goes horribly wrong, and now the SMGs, Lil Coding and Steve have to adapt to a very different Mushroom Kingdom while the USBs work on getting Emmy back to normal.

Meanwhile, Byte and Welony are similarly unaffected by the failed reset and immediately try to take advantage of this new world.