#MartianBingo

[fandombingo]

Fandom Bingo: The Martian

For July, we're heading into space with Martian Bingo! I read the The Martian and watched the movie several years ago and recently got hooked back into it. I still like it just as much, so I figured I might as well do something useful with my obsession while it's there. If you haven't read or watched it, I definitely recommend giving it a try.

But as per usual, this event is multifandom, so you don't need to know the source material, and you can sign up no matter what fandom you want to write for.

**Signups here! Open until August 5th.**

General Rules:

You can interpret the prompts any way you want. If you think it fits, then it fits. All prompts, including the quotes, can just be used as inspiration or a general fit, no need to actually include them word for word in the fanwork, and tenses and pronouns can be swapped accordingly.

You can combine multiple prompts in one fanwork.

Each submitted fanwork should be new and complete, but it can be a standalone, part of a series, or one chapter of a multi-chaptered fic.

This bingo is primarily geared towards fanfic, but any medium is fine if you feel you can do it.

For fanfic, the minimum is 100 words with no maximum.

You can use fanworks submitted for this event for other events as well, so long as it’s okay with the other side too.

While signups are only open for a month, there is no time limit for completing a card.

This round's bingo only offers 3x3 cards. Everyone can sign up for a maximum of FOUR cards (please send in one form per card).

After submitting a form, please give me up to a week to reply with your card.

All content and ratings are allowed but please tag everything appropriately, especially if there’s trigger-warning content.

Please be respectful of each other. If you see content tags you don’t like, just scroll past and move on.

All fanworks must be your own creation. No plagiarism. No AI-generated works.

To Finish a Card:

Get a bingo! This can be: 🪐 1 horizontal row 🪐 🪐 1 vertical column 🪐 🪐 1 diagonal line 🪐 🪐 2 diagonal lines 🪐 🪐 or a blackout 🪐

Fill out the completion form (1 form/card).

When Posting:

You can post your fanworks to this AO3 collection here.

If you make a Tumblr post for your fanwork, remember to ping @fandombingo and tag #MartianBingo so I can reblog it.

On your post, please clearly indicate the Fandom, Prompt(s), Rating, and Tag(s)/Content Warning(s).

If you have any other questions, don't hesitate to send in an ask!

[livsoulsecrets]

Tessa&Kit Fic - You were an angel in the shape of my mom

Written for @fandombingo Martian Bingo prompt: “The longer we wait, the worse it’s going to get.”

Fandom: The Shadowhunters Chronicles.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences.

Summary: In the day of Rosemary’s death anniversary, Tessa and Kit talk about loss, guilt and survival.

“I must be the worst son in the world,” he whispered. “Rosemary’s lucky she never had to deal with me.”

Tessa winced as if she had been slapped. The down tilt of her lips was such an unnatural sight he had to double check before he truly believed her distaste was being directed at him.

“Don’t you ever say that again.” Tessa told him.

Read on AO3.

The sun had already begun to set when Kit heard Tessa stepping into the porch of their backyard.

He spent most of the afternoon tucked into the recliner Jem bought as a gift for Tessa, lost in thought.

He had good memories of countless afternoons spent chasing Mina around the green expanse of their garden as Tessa settled in to watch them, a book in hand.

He also found it was as good a place as any for sulking.

His mom settled into the less comfortable wood chair by his side and turned her body to face him. He very deliberately avoided her gaze.

She seemed determined not to push him, if her quietness and smooth movements were any indicators. It reminded him of his first weeks living there.

Tessa and Jem had been painstakingly careful around him, mindful of their words and postures, easygoing and kind, trying their hardest not to scare him away. It made Kit feel like a ticking bomb about to go off half the time. The other half, it made him feel oddly wanted.

Kit wished she would just tell him what to do, only this once. He was good at following a parent’s orders, most of the time. He tended to Johnny Rook’s every whim for years, after all.

But Tessa wouldn’t. She always had good advice to offer and time to hear him out, should he ask for it, but no orders to be followed blindly ever came out of her lips.

If only Kit didn’t hate the idea of asking for help so badly, he would appreciate her patience some more.

“I’m fine,” he said, breaking the silence once it became clear Tessa wouldn’t.

“That’s good to hear,” she replied, unconvinced.

He tapped his feet against the floor impatiently. “It‘s just a bad day. Nothing to worry about.”

Tessa hummed noncommittally and nodded. “I see.”

Kit huffed an annoyed breath and immediately regretted it when his mom’s eyebrows knitted together in a pained expression.

He hated to be the one causing her so much distress. Still, the attentive way her eyes tracked his every movement made his skin crawl.

It reminded him of nights spent sneaking his way through the Shadow Market, his father’s eyes seemingly everywhere and nowhere all at once, watching and waiting for his next mistake.

Tessa wasn’t looking for a reason to punish him, but he feared that his skin would always crawl at the feeling of being watched closely, regardless of whose eyes were laid on him.

“Do you need some time alone? I can leave,” she offered, even though the idea clearly displeased her.

Why couldn’t he stop screwing everything up?

He already had two dead parents and a whole lineage of tragedy to account for. Did he really need to make life harder for Tessa, too?

“No, that’s not it,” he hurried to say, pulling his legs up to tuck his knees under his chin.

Tessa went very still, intelligent gray eyes narrowed. Her silence spelled out the questions she wouldn’t ask out loud.

“What’s it, then?” He could almost make out in the curious glint of her eyes.

“Tell me,” The tense line of her jaw nearly let out.

“Let me help,” Her hands said as they drew patterns over her sweater.

“I think I liked it better when I didn’t know anything about Rosemary,” he muttered finally, rocking the chair back and forth.

Tessa hummed. If the statement surprised her, she didn’t show it at all.

“Now that I do know some things, as small as they are, it hurts more. I thought it would make everything better if I knew what she was like or why she left.”

Kit played with a loose strand of fabric on his shorts, pulling on it with more force than needed as he spoke.

“It doesn’t really help,” he confessed. “Now I know the exact day she died—and what for? So I can have one day every year for the rest of my life to feel miserable?”

He gestured broadly to himself, still avoiding his mom’s sharp gaze.

When it became clear he had nothing else to say, Tessa gently reached for his hand, stilling his attack on the worn-out fabric of his clothes. “I can understand why days like today can weigh you down. I’m afraid there’s not much to be done about that.”

Kit tensed immediately, realizing how pathetic it was for him to whine about Rosemary’s death anniversary in front of Tessa, of all people.

She had experienced more grief than almost anyone else he knew, except for Jem. They had lost everything but each other. The weight of so much loss became so heavy some days that Kit could almost touch it in the air of their home, tucked away in the corners of the house and hidden behind the echoing sound of Mina’s giggles.

Tessa sensed his regret and rushed to reassure him, “I’m not saying this because I want us to compare our losses. It’s a pointless game to play, believe me.”

She laid a hand on his knee, stopping his shaking leg. Kit hadn’t even realized it was moving that much.

“What I can tell you is that we honor those we lost by living.”

It was a beautiful sentiment, he could admit, but it felt too out of reach for himself.

“I didn’t lose her,” he mumbled in response. Tessa startled, titling her head in clear confusion. “I never had her in the first place.”

Tessa said nothing, just waited as he worked through the lump in his throat.

“Sometimes I feel so angry at her for leaving me behind,” he confessed. “For dying before I had a chance to really know her.”

He laughed a hollowed sound, devoid of any joy. Tessa’s eyebrows scrunched together in a painful twist of her serene expression.

“Isn’t that ridiculous?” He huffed. “Rosemary gave everything up to protect me. She died for me, and I’m still angry because… Because I didn’t have anyone to draw a Mother’s Day card for? Because she didn’t tuck me into bed and read me a story every night?”

To his horror, his breathing grew heavier alongside the tears dropping from his cheeks. He forcefully rubbed at his face to dry them.

“I must be the worst son in the world,” he whispered. “Rosemary’s lucky she never had to deal with me.”

Tessa winced as if she had been slapped. The downtilt of her lips was such an unnatural sight he had to take a double check before he truly believed her distaste was being directed at him.

“Don’t you ever say that again.” Tessa told him.

She had never spoken to him like that before—so hurt and fierce, like someone had reached inside her chest and broken her heart in two.

“Kit,” she whispered, propping his face up with two of her fingers against his chin. “Don’t you ever repeat that, do you understand? Never again.”

He nodded, still taken aback by her reaction. Then, Tessa softly ran her fingers through his hair, soothing him gently.

“It’s not stupid to feel angry at our parents for the choices they made that impacted our lives,” Tessa said, her own eyes watery. “I didn’t have a chance to know Rosemary, but I’m sure she wouldn’t blame you for what you feel now or for how you felt growing up.”

Had anyone ever held him the way Tessa did now? Had any other person in the world looked at him with so much sorrow in their eyes and managed not to make him squirm under their gaze?

“Being left behind leaves a scar. It doesn’t matter what the reasons were. As noble as they may be, they still hurt. It doesn’t make you a bad son to still carry this hurt with you. You must feel it. In fact, the longer you wait to feel it, the worse it gets.”

He shook his head in denial, the feel of Tessa’s hand against his nape like hot iron for a moment as Kit felt the familiar grief taking over.

“I was just a baby when she left. I can’t miss someone I didn’t know,” he countered.

Tessa smiled sadly, larger and older than life. “Oh, dear, I wish that was true.”

Kit suddenly felt very small and young, as Tessa’s voice became sadder and more ominous.

“Our hearts and bodies carry pain far past what our minds can see. All it takes is one moment for it to be brought forward. Yes, you were too young to remember what it was like to have Rosemary as a mother. It doesn’t change the fact you lost her. It doesn’t mean you can’t mourn what could have been.”

Kit wasn’t sure he believed in that completely. His father had taught him that it was stupid to dwell on the past, especially if it involved his mother.

Tessa was a far smarter and kinder person than Johnny, but Kit had learned that such deeply ingrained lessons were hard to unlearn.

“Any mother would be lucky to have you as a son, Kit,” Tessa said, holding his face delicately, her thumb caressing the slope of his cheek. “I know I am.”

Kit looked at his mom—really, properly looked at her. Her face, preserved by time. Her gray eyes, kinder than he deserved them to be. Her smile, small and sincere and heavy with loss.

He loved her so much more than his heart could bear. He loved her and trusted her and couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t love him too.

Kit wasn’t used to believing he had earned his place in anyone’s life, but Tessa made it feel so easy—like he didn’t need to earn anything in the first place.

“Do you mean that?” He asked, sounding like a scared boy searching for dry land in a revolting sea.

And Tessa threw him a lifeline as easily as she had undone each of his defenses. “I do. Of course I do.”

She laid a kiss on his temple. His eyes closed, and he instinctively leaned into the touch.

Kit felt far younger than he truly was as Tessa held him and pressed kisses to his forehead. He was certain, then, that the steadfastness of her love would never cease to amaze him.

When Tessa pulled back to look into his eyes again, he ruffled his hair before saying, “I’ll never try to replace her, Kit. She’s your mother too and will always be. You don’t need to be scared of talking about her.”

He nodded. His throat felt too tight for him to try and say anything at all.

“But since the day I laid my eyes on you, I’ve loved you. I knew that feeling, deep in my gut. I had felt it three times before, and I felt it again when I met you.”

His treacherous, already swollen, eyes watered once more against his will. Tessa’s gray ones mirrored his, if kinder and wiser.

“My sweet, brave boy,” she whispered, pulling him to her chest again. “I love you. So much more than you know.”

Kit laced his arms around her, slotting his face in the crook of Tessa’s neck.

For once, he didn’t doubt her.

[endlesstwanted]

I Have a Heartache that Won’t Go Away

Fic created for @augustwritingchallenge, day 1 | Canon Divergence

Fandom: Chicago Fire

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Pairing: Sylvie Brett/Joe Cruz/Brian "Otis" Zvonecek

Tags: Canon Divergence season 8, Best Friends, Idiots in Love, Polyamory

Summary: With Sylvie in Fowlerton, Brian doesn’t know how to move forward with an empty room in their home. He talks to Joe about it, and they figure out their next move.

Wordcount: 1k

Also created for: @eclipsingbingo | Roommates / @fandombingo, Martian edition | They’re gone. + The Little Prince | “I was too young to know how to love her.” + Wonderland | “Tell me the truth.” / @fandom-free-bingo, Pride edition | Best Friends Getting Married + Plural edition | Mourning a Lover / @multifandom-flash, April events: National Ex-Spouse Day | Forever Fling + March events: Compliment | Outhumbling Each Other / @julybreakbingo, July Break 2024 | Having feelings for their best friend but being happy that they’ve started dating someone else

Excerpt:

“Capp’s not going to be our roommate,” Brian shook his head before Joe could finish the sentence. He grabbed his walker and started his way back to the living room, hoping Joe would follow him and the conversation.

“Then we have to keep looking for someone.” Joe arrived first and accommodated a few cushions on the couch for Brian to sit down.

He’d been off of work since the fire in the mattress warehouse and started physical therapy only six months before, so while he learned to walk again after the fall he had in that basement, he had a lot of time to think. “Or …”

“Or what?” Joe raised one eyebrow, and moved to put Brian’s walker beside the couch.

“You saw Sylvie on the phone the other day. She seemed … off, don’t you think?”

Continue reading on Ao3 here!

[livsoulsecrets]

Klaus&Ben Fic - I am not scared of death

Written for @fandombingo Martian Bingo prompts: “I’m running out of miracles” and “Puncture Wound”.

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV).

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences.

Summary: Ben has been losing control of his powers since he turned sixteen. When it happens during one of the Umbrella Academy’s missions, Klaus is the only one left to help.

Read on AO3.

The Horror sat low at his gut.

It stirred when Ben smelt blood. It lashed out to taste it. It retreated when it was satisfied.

Ben could feel its hunger seeping deep into his bones, threatening to swallow him whole.

The Horror had no language, but Ben understood it all the same. He didn’t know where it came from or how his body became its vessel, but he had felt it stirring within himself for as long as he could remember.

His siblings were the only people in the world who weren’t scared by it.

Even the people they saved looked at him with a poorly disguised look of disgust and fear. It didn’t matter that he had just saved their lives when all they saw was a monster.

Reginald was mostly intrigued by the Horror. He wasn’t particularly happy about the fact it couldn’t be controlled either, but at least that had kept him and his experiments away.

It was nearly impossible to know where it ended and where Ben began.

The Horror took over for his overwhelmed mind in the split of a second when danger was near, and, at the slightest threat, it lashed its fury without hesitation.

That was the reason why Ben had always been careful about his own strength, especially during missions.

That day was no different. He had waited until the thugs ran towards the distraction Luther, Diego, and Allison were causing in the east wing of the warehouse before tapping into his power.

He made sure they were out of reach and rushed into the room with Klaus in tow, ready to release the hostages.

And then he heard the telltale sound of gunfire to his left, and the world turned red.

He turned around, and the tentacles exploded in color and movement. He willed one of them towards Klaus and pushed his brother behind him, away from danger.

The rest of them engulfed the guns of the five outstanding thugs and ripped them away.

Three of them reached for new weapons, and the Horror wasted no time tearing them apart.

The metallic taste of blood had stopped bothering Ben by the time he was seven, but the stickiness it left on his skin and clothes was the worst part of the job even after all those years.

“Stand down,” he ordered, holding the Horror back as he faced the two men still standing across from him.

One of them threw his hands up and fell to his knees, begging for mercy.

The other paled considerably, shaking where he stood. Ben took his desperation for defeat.

He arched his back, commanding the tentacles to retreat.

And that was his mistake.

Because the desperate man across from him wasn’t surrendering.

He reached inside his coat and pulled a knife out. He threw it across the short distance between them, and Ben was too slow—too weak—to dodge it.

It lodged on his shoulder with a sharp pain. He yelled as his vision clouded and the Horror attacked again.

Ben barely registered its actions as it tore his attacker apart. He fell to his knees, reaching for the knife.

Somewhere on his mind, he knew it was the wrong thing to do, but he pulled it off anyway.

There were enough things lodged in his body he had no control over. He would not add this nameless thug’s knife to the list.

Distantly, he registered the screaming. A high-pitched cry from a young woman and uncontrollable sobbing from a grown man. Klaus calling for him. The Horror humming with energy, aching for more, reaching blindly into their surroundings.

Klaus, loud and bright and real. “Ben! Ben, look at me. Ben, get the fuck up!”

His vision snapped into focus. He lifted his head, acutely aware of the blood dripping down his chest.

He couldn’t tell if it was his or not.

The scene he found was chaos.

The Horror had taken hold of two of the hostages and the thug who surrendered, lifting them in the air.

Ben had lost control in the middle of his own pain.

He had hurt those who posed no threats. He had become one with the monster within him, and it was only through his subconscious fighting against the intrusion that he had managed not to tear those bystanders apart too.

“Ben, you need to put them down,” Klaus told him, carefully approaching his brother.

“I’m trying,” Ben grunted, because he was. He was fighting the hunger and the bloodthirst, and he was losing.

The tentacles tightened even more, and he hoped to God he hadn’t broken any bones.

“I know. I know you are, Benny,” Klaus agreed. He was standing by his side now, and Ben resisted the urge to shove him as far away from this mess as he could.

“It thinks they hurt us too,” he spat out through gritted teeth. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead when his jaw clenched painfully. “It wants blood.”

Klaus paled considerably, desperately looking back and forth between his brother and the tentacles.

“Don’t know how much longer I can hold it off,” Ben told him. “You need to get out of here.”

“Fuck no,” Klaus replied.

“You have to,” Ben yelled. “If this goes wrong, you’re dead. It’ll take a miracle to get this under control.”

Klaus smiled like the freak he was. He shrugged in a nonchalant manner that hardly belonged to the battlefield. “You have always been good with those. You save our asses all the time.”

“I think I’m running out of miracles,” Ben cried out, forcing himself to stand up again when Klaus pulled him to his feet.

Klaus looked around, desperately searching for a solution. His eyes landed on the knife Ben had dropped on the floor.

“I think I just found our miracle,” his brother announced.

Ben saw the exact moment a madman’s plan formed in his brother’s mind.

“Don’t,” he snapped, but Klaus was already moving. “Klaus!”

Ben tried to reach for his brother and failed—he was spread thin between the blood loss and his rebellious power.

He could only watch as Klaus rushed forward to grab the weapon.

He watched in terror as his brother threw the knife towards one of the tentacles.

Ben immediately felt a sharp pain when the blade slashed the tentacle’s flesh.

In the split second it took the Horror to process the new threat, it lessened its hold on its targets.

It was all Ben needed to summon it back to him.

He kicked Klaus to the side, successfully avoiding a tentacle that had snapped itself towards him, and felt the tentacles’ familiar weight retreating back into his stomach.

Ben’s knees weakened, and he stumbled forward. He trembled down the next second, his back hitting the hard concrete floor with a loud noise.

The hurried footsteps of terrified people soured through the room. Ben forced himself to breathe, forced the bile to retreat, and his eyes to remain open.

Klaus crawled to him, sliding over the blood and viscera on the floor with little care for the mess.

“Way to go, Benerino,” he mumbled. “Never a dull day with you, is it?”

Ben crooked his head to face him. Klaus threw a hand to his shoulder and pressured the bleeding wound there.

“I could have killed you,” he whispered, horrified by how true that was.

Klaus shook his head. “You wouldn’t.”

“You don’t get it.”

“I could have,” he wanted to scream. “You don’t know what it’s like. You don’t know how much worse it has become.”

“I don’t,” Klaus replied.

“You don’t know…” Ben tried again, but his words were slurring together, all their meaning lost to his worn-out body.

He had lost too much blood. He had fought too hard and caused too much damage.

He would be out of commission for days. Ben distantly wondered if Reginald would punish him for that too when he learned about this mess.

“I do know you, though,” Klaus told him in the unusually serious tone he loathed having to use. “You wouldn’t kill me.”

“I almost killed them,” he countered.

“But you didn’t. I saved your sorry ass for a change,” Klaus replied, cursing under his breath. “Where the fuck are the others? I can’t carry you out alone.”

Ben felt his consciousness slipping away, even as Klaus slapped him in the face to keep him awake.

“Do not pull this shit on me,” his brother ordered.

The last thing Ben thought before the darkness was that he had never heard Klaus sound so scared.

———

Ben woke up in the infirmary.

His shoulder was covered in gauze, and there was an IV line attached to his arm.

He blinked a few times, adjusting to the dark. Ben brought his fingers to touch the bandage, wincing as the contact sent a burning sensation through his arm.

“The knife was dirty as hell,” Klaus’ voice sounded from the darkness. “You had an infection. Luckily Grace noticed it as soon as we brought you in.”

Ben would have startled if the thought of moving wasn’t so painful.

“How long have I been out?” He rasped.

“A day and a half,” Klaus answered, picking up a glass of water and passing it to him. Ben drank carefully, despite his desperate thirst.

“Did you… Did you tell them?” He asked next.

Klaus shook his head. “I said you were attacked and passed out right after.”

Ben released a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you, Klaus.”

Klaus shrugged and waved the gratitude away with a flick of his wrist.

“Does it happen a lot?” Klaus asked, tracing patterns against his oversized pajama pants. Ben’s whole body froze.

“No,” he lied.

Because it didn’t use to happen, not at all.

He and the Horror had always been one, but since his sixteenth birthday, Ben felt like an outsider inside his own body.

The carcass of his being didn’t belong to him anymore.

Ben was the Horror’s to use.

He couldn’t risk Reginald finding out and subjecting him to his terrible experiments.

He couldn’t tell his siblings only to be benched and left out of missions.

Ben needed the thrill of the battle and its victims to feed the monster in his entrails, because what would happen if he didn’t, and the next time the Horror got hungry, it fed on his siblings instead?

He would rather have the Horror kill him and a thousand strangers than let it harm his siblings.

“It was my fault, really. I haven’t slept properly since that bank robbery last Thursday,” he lied again. “The Horror has been paranoid ever since. It lashed out when it felt threatened.”

Klaus nodded, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

Ben wondered when was the last time his brother had slept too. His usual paleness had become more pronounced, and so had the bags under his eyes.

He scooted over, careful not to jostle his IV. He made room on the infirmary bed and motioned for his brother to join him.

Klaus quickly climbed into his side, understanding the meaning behind his gesture.

Ben’s body immediately relaxed when his brother rested his head on his unharmed shoulder and threw an arm over him.

“Be more careful next time, you idiot,” Klaus ordered. “I don’t want to have to stab you again. Especially when you’re already hurt.”

Ben laughed weakly and had to hold his own chest when the pain worsened with the movement.

“I’ll try my best,” he promised, because that was all he had to offer.

Ben was terrified. He feared the only way this battle between man and monster would end was with one of them dead.

He feared he wasn’t strong enough to win it. And that his family would be hurt in the crossfire.

But Klaus had been there. He had hurt the Horror on purpose to help him, and Ben had managed to contain his power.

He had to believe that was enough.

He had to believe the only casualty of that war would be himself, if it came down to it.

“Stop thinking so loudly,” Klaus muttered. “It’s keeping me awake.”

“Sorry,” he whispered, and shifted to rest his head against Klaus’.

Sleep shouldn’t have come to him so easily, not after being unconscious for so long and with the heavy weight of guilt over his shoulders, but it did.

Maybe it was because of Klaus’ solid presence tucked into his side or the absence of judgment his brother offered.

Either way, Ben closed his eyes and pressed closer to Klaus.

His siblings were all home and safe. Klaus hadn’t pulled away from him despite his faults.

He would live to fight another day, and, for now, that was enough.

[fandombingo]

Last week to sign up for Martian Bingo!

@thebigbangblogproject

Fandom Bingo: The Martian

For July, we're heading into space with Martian Bingo! I read the The Martian and watched the movie several years ago and recently got hooked back into it. I still like it just as much, so I figured I might as well do something useful with my obsession while it's there. If you haven't read or watched it, I definitely recommend giving it a try.

But as per usual, this event is multifandom, so you don't need to know the source material, and you can sign up no matter what fandom you want to write for.

**Signups here! Open until August 5th.**

General Rules:

You can interpret the prompts any way you want. If you think it fits, then it fits. All prompts, including the quotes, can just be used as inspiration or a general fit, no need to actually include them word for word in the fanwork, and tenses and pronouns can be swapped accordingly.

You can combine multiple prompts in one fanwork.

Each submitted fanwork should be new and complete, but it can be a standalone, part of a series, or one chapter of a multi-chaptered fic.

This bingo is primarily geared towards fanfic, but any medium is fine if you feel you can do it.

For fanfic, the minimum is 100 words with no maximum.

You can use fanworks submitted for this event for other events as well, so long as it’s okay with the other side too.

While signups are only open for a month, there is no time limit for completing a card.

This round's bingo only offers 3x3 cards. Everyone can sign up for a maximum of FOUR cards (please send in one form per card).

After submitting a form, please give me up to a week to reply with your card.

All content and ratings are allowed but please tag everything appropriately, especially if there’s trigger-warning content.

Please be respectful of each other. If you see content tags you don’t like, just scroll past and move on.

All fanworks must be your own creation. No plagiarism. No AI-generated works.

To Finish a Card:

Get a bingo! This can be: 🪐 1 horizontal row 🪐 🪐 1 vertical column 🪐 🪐 1 diagonal line 🪐 🪐 2 diagonal lines 🪐 🪐 or a blackout 🪐

Fill out the completion form (1 form/card).

When Posting:

You can post your fanworks to this AO3 collection here.

If you make a Tumblr post for your fanwork, remember to ping @fandombingo and tag #MartianBingo so I can reblog it.

On your post, please clearly indicate the Fandom, Prompt(s), Rating, and Tag(s)/Content Warning(s).

If you have any other questions, don't hesitate to send in an ask!