A/N: I just saw Brand New Day, and I was just blown away! Naturally, my brain filled with fic ideas! Here's to starting a new blog for only Spider-Man stuff! In this universe, MJ doesn't exist! Sorry lol!
Summary: While saving his girlfriend from a new threat, Peter discovers a surprising connection between her and an old acquaintance.
Word Count: 2.4k
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
"Hey, Pete! It's me! Are we still-"
The door swung open, revealing a disheveled Peter whose hair stuck out every which way.
"Hey," he said as his chest heaved.
(Y/n) raised a brow and kissed his cheek before pushing past him. "What has you so out of breath? Run a marathon?"
"No, I was-I was just, uh- working out and-"
"I'm kidding," she interrupted with a smile.
Peter huffed and sank into one of the two chairs at his "dining table." Dining table, workstation, counter space... that table did it all. Everything became multipurpose in such a small apartment. He wiped a few crumbs from the table while he watched (y/n) flit around the kitchen, telling him about her day at the coffee shop.
He listened intently about the group of teenage girls who'd spent the whole morning sitting across from each other without saying a single word. She absentmindedly chopped up the vegetables she'd brought from the store.
"What's the point of even hanging out if you're just gonna stare at your phone the whole time?" (Y/n) shook her head. "I don't get it."
He couldn't help but chuckle.
"What?" she asked with a raised brow.
"Nothing."
"Yeah, yeah. Laugh at me. How about you tell me what you did today, Parker?"
What could he say? Yeah, I passed out and then woke up in a literal spiderweb? Or I'm currently fighting against arachnid DNA taking over my body?
"I just... delivered some DoorDash orders. A little dog got out, and I had to chase it down."
The expression on her face changed from faux annoyance to suspicion. âWhat color was it?â
âWhite,â he answered immediately.
âHmm.â
Then she went back to cooking. Peter got up to join her, but then he bowed over, clutching his head with a hand on the chair for balance. (Y/n) ran over to him and helped him to the couch.
"Pete?" she sputtered, kneeling in front of him with her hands resting on his knees. "Hey, hey, hey. I'm here. What can I do?"
Her only answer was another groan as he tightened his grip on his head. Peter's headaches had started a few months prior and got progressively worse. This was the worst she'd seen.
(Y/n)'s eyes scanned the room, thinking of what she could do to help when they landed on the medicine cabinet. Advil. It wouldn't do much, but it would give him a little relief... right?
Promising she'd be right back, (y/n) sprinted to get the bottle and a glass of water. By the time she returned a few moments later, it appeared the worst of it had passed. She got him to take a few pills before sitting next to him.
She soothingly ran her fingers through his curls. Peter leaned into her touch as she whispered. "Feeling any better?"
Peter nodded slightly.
"Good... Babe, have you been to the doctor yet? They keep getting worse and-"
"I'm fine," he ground out. "I don't need to go. The meds are helping."
(Y/n) opened her mouth, but Peter beat her to it. He squinted over at her. "Dinner's burning."
"Shoot."
With a gentle kiss to his hair, she got up and sprinted to the kitchen. A sharp pain rang through his head at the loss of her touch. He didn't understand it-how he'd become so attached so quickly. One day he was content with being alone. But then the next, she was there, smiling at him from across the hall as she moved in.
And a year later, he couldn't imagine his life without her. Gone were the days of endless Little Caesars boxes littering his apartment. Instead, he had home-cooked meals most nights before patrols. (Y/n) brought back a light in his life that had long been extinguished... a warmth that had disappeared when May died.
May would like her. Peter had no doubt about that.
His heart beat a little faster, and his mind got fuzzy in her presence. He knew love was the word to describe how he felt, but saying it out loud made it more real. More dangerous.
The closer they got, the more danger she was in. Peter had battled within himself time and time again about telling her, but he could never justify putting (y/n) in more danger. So he kept her close, but just shut out, just far enough away to keep her from knowing the truth about him.
But a few days later, when the... thing that was inhabiting people found him, it shook him to his core.
"You know, your apartment is just what I expected. A sad, twenty-something man's apartment. Imagine my surprise when I read the letter on the fridge. Sweet really."
Peter's brows furrowed beneath his suit. "You're bluffing."
They had to be.
"Am I?" Then the thing jumped across the way to inhabit a man walking by. "Does (y/n) know about this side of you, Peter Parker? Does she know about the⊠monster inside you?"
Peter took a step closer, ignoring the forming pit in his stomach. âWhat do you want? V-MAX? Youâre not getting it.â
The person laughed. âI can get whatever I want. I think (y/n) would love to know that her beloved boyfriend is New Yorkâs favorite web slinger.â
âYou donât know where she is.â
âItâs a long way to the coffee shop.â
His heart sank. The letter. Sheâd talked about going there on their first date. And there was the picture hanging beside the letter of them. Peter was pretty sure you could see the window art behind them.
Before he could move, the thing switched to a woman twenty feet away. âRace you.â
And then he was off, frantically swinging through the city after the thing as it inhabited person after person. Peter couldn't, wouldn't let it near (y/n). If anything happened to her... no, he couldn't think about that. But then the thing inhabited the helicopter pilot, and Peter thought it was over. His heartbeat echoed in his ears as he frantically got E.V. to figure out its max jump distance.
33 feet.
Peter managed to trap the thing by webbing the helicopter to a crane, suspending it with no one inside the jump radius. He breathed a little easier as he swung to the bakery.
He checked the time on his HUD. 2:30. She'd be on her lunch break, probably eating her sandwich on the roof of the building like normal. Peter smiled at the memory of that conversation.
"Why do you go up there?"
(Y/n) shrugged, smiling over at him. "I just like feeling the sun on my face."
It was the little things that made him love her. How she cooked for him without being asked, how she never pried about his past, how she was always patient when he had to cancel. But most of all, how she grounded him. Spider-Man had started to take over Peter Parker's life.
But then she'd arrived.
Peter found her just where he thought he would, sitting in a ratty beach chair atop the building. The crust of her sandwich lay in the plastic bag on her lap. Perching on the far corner of the building, Peter found himself watching her for a few moments.
A warmth he could only describe as adoration settled inside him where worry and fear had been occupying minutes earlier. She was safe.
But if this thing could travel that fast, he had to get her out of here. But where was far enough from people to keep her safe? Then it hit him.
Who was the one person who isolated themselves from everyone and could actually defend her if need be? Frank.
He turned on the voice changer on his suit and hopped down from his perch. "Miss (y/l/n)! You need to come with me right now. You're in danger."
She whipped around so fast that she almost fell out of the chair, barely managing to catch herself before shooting up. "Spider-Man? What are you talking about?" she sputtered.
"There's no time," he said with a shake of his head. "Someone's after you, and we need to get you out of here. Right now."
"But-"
"We gotta go." Peter extended a hand to her. "Trust me."
(Y/n) narrowed her eyes for half a second as she came to a decision. After a moment, she sighed. "Okay."
In a flash, she was in his arms, clutching him for dear life as he swung them across the city. Holding her close eased some of Peter's anxiety, but he wouldn't feel completely at ease until they reached Frank's.
"Hey! Spider-Man!" She cried, tapping his shoulder. "Put me down and tell me what's going on! Now!!"
They didn't have time, but he swung them onto a nearby roof anyway. She immediately stepped back from him. He expected her to run her hands through her now-tangled hair, but instead she bent over and placed her hands on her knees. After taking a few deep breaths, she stood up and approached him with wide eyes.
"What's happening right now?"
"There's this thing... it-it can inhabit people and control them," Peter stuttered. It was even scarier saying it out loud. "And now it's coming after you. We've got to get you out of the city so it can't reach you."
Her brows drew together. "Why is it after me?"
Peter took a moment to think. 'Because you're my girlfriend' didn't seem like the best answer at the moment. "I don't know."
"You don't know? Then how do you know it's coming after me?"
"I just do, okay?!" He took a few steps toward her so they were only a couple of feet apart. His voice softened. "You're going to have to trust me."
"I don't know you."
"(Y/n), please."
The desperation in his voice appeared to convince her. "Fine. But I need to let my boyfriend know I'm okay."
Peter couldn't help but chuckle. The irony of it all. "I'll take care of it."
"How do you know my boyfriend?"
"Peter, right?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "He, uh, delivered my DoorDash the other day. Told me about his girl who loved Spider-Man. Even showed me a picture. Respectful guy."
She turned from him, pacing. "He didn't mention that," she muttered. (Y/n) stopped pacing and wrapped her arms around herself, standing on the edge of the building and staring out over the city. "I think heâs cheating on me.â
âWhat!? No!â Peterâs eyes almost bugged out of his head. âHeâs crazy about you, (y/n), I swear!"
She peered at him over her shoulder, eyes shining with tears. "And how would you know that, Spider-Man?"
"Because I..." Peter trailed off.
He had to tell her.
Turning off his voice changer, Peter approached her. "Because I know how I feel about you, (y/n)."
"Peter?"
Her face morphed from sadness to confusion as she recognized his voice. She raised her hands to his shoulders, then up to his face before slowly peeling off his mask.
"Hi," he whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It's because I-I love you, and I don't want anything to happen to you because of me."
(Y/n) shook her head at him, hands resting on his face. "You could've told me. And I love you, too."
Their lips met a moment later. She threaded her fingers through his hair as they kissed. Pulling away, she smiled and turned back toward the edge.
"It's funny, you know?"
"What?" he chuckled, unable to stop a wide grin.
"That you thought she'd accept your lies."
Peter's smile dropped. No, no, no, no...
(Y/n) turned around to face him, backing her heels to the edge of the building, sending a few rocks tumbling to the street below. Her face no longer held the warmth he'd seen moments before.
"Still didn't mention the monster inside you, Peter."
He held out his hands. "Please, just leave her alone. Please."
Then she was falling, nothing but air between her and the street. Peter darted after her and managed to wrap his arms around her just before she hit the pavement. He propped her up against his chest.
"Hey, hey, hey. You're okay," breathed Peter.
(Y/n)'s chest rose and fell slowly, and he felt like he could breathe again. That was until a car pulled up and its driver got out. The inhabited man threatened them one last time before getting back in and pulling away. Peter's HUD managed to get a picture of the culprit.
It was a girl. A teenager.
He would find out her identity later. The unconscious woman in his arms was his only priority. Wrapping his arms around her, Peter took off through the streets, swinging toward Frank's.
They were almost there when (y/n) came to. She started thrashing in his hold for a moment before realizing she was a hundred feet in the air.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! How'd I get here!? Spider-Man?"
"It's okay! I'm taking you somewhere safe, alright? Just breathe."
To his surprise, she only held him tighter and didn't ask any questions. Only when they landed at the docks did she speak.
"Look, I need to tell-"
He nodded back at her. "Your boyfriend knows you're safe."
"Okay, thanks, but that's not what I was saying," (y/n) said with a smile. "Make sure to watch where you're-"
Click.
A moment later, Peter set off a series of booby traps that ended with them rolling down into the dry dock. "You good?" he asked breathlessly.
(Y/n) nodded and rose to her feet just as a rough voice echoed through the empty warehouse. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"
Peter raised a brow. "Didn't really have time to call, Frank."
"Not you, daffodil," Frank scoffed. "Sweetheart, what are you doing with web-slinger here?"
Sweetheart?
She shrugged. "I don't really know."
"Why is she here, kid?" said Frank, his attention returning to Spider-Man.
"There's this thing after her, and I need somewhere to keep her safe."
The man's face shifted to something resembling worry. Peter had never seen the expression on Frank's face before. He'd expected to have to convince him, but he only scanned the dock's entrance before smiling down at (y/n).
"Made your favorite chili."
Peter glanced between the two of them. "You two know each other."
plot description: every atom has a purpose, and somehow, yours always seemed to find their way back to him.
content warnings: LITTLE SPOILERS FOR BRAND NEW DAY, my first attempt writing fluff, so mushy and cutesy scenes, kissing / (let me know if i missed anything!)
notes: im totally eating this up bc ive been reading and writing endless smut fics so i decided it was time for something cute or something around that type of shit but U GUYS GET ME!! also this is another thanks to đȘ· bc w/o them i wouldve never been able to come up w thsi :) ilyily pls request more !! ill trymy bezt to give justice :)
you pursed your lips as your eyes scanned the newspaper spread across the table by the window of delmarâs.
NEW YORK STILL REELING AFTER DEVASTATING SUPERHERO CLASH.
your gaze lingered on the accompanying photographâ the same broken damage control building, the same crumbling concrete, the same place where youâd pulled a certain spider out from beneath the rubble.
an eyebrow raised at a thought while you took another absentminded sip of your coffee.
ding.
the bell above the door chimed.
and without looking up, you greeted him. âmorning, parker.â
âwhat?â your brows knit together when you were met with silence, lowering the newspaper that covered your face.
peter stood just inside the entrance, his hoodie dangling loosely from one hand.
he stared at you for a moment, âhi,â he managed.
his expression hovered somewhere between disbelief and relief, like heâd spent the last few days wondering if heâd imagined your existence.
a small smile tugged at your lips.
âyou look better.â
âthanks to you.â he let out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. his eyes drifting to the empty chair across from yours.
âmind if iâŠâ
you folded the newspaper and gestured toward the seat.
âitâs a free country.â
âright.â
he sat down, setting his hoodie beside his chair.
what surprised him was it wasnât awkward. at all. but it was unfamiliar to him, and he decided to break the silence after a minute of thinking.
âi wasnât actually expecting to see you again.â
you tilted your head.
âdisappointed?â
âno.â the answer came far too quickly his ears immediately turned pink.
ââŠi meanââ
you couldnât help the amused huff that escaped you ârelax, parker.â
he smiled sheepishly.
âiâm trying.â
you found yourself with him weeks laterâ after patrol had become something the two of you occasionally shared.
once the city settled into its usual rhythm of distant sirens and glowing skylines, the two of you found yourselves sitting side by side on the edge of a rooftop, legs dangling over the side as the cool night breeze swept past.
this is comfortable. you thought.
peter was the first to break the silence. âcan i ask you something?â
you glanced over.
âyou just did.â
âright. okay⊠can i ask another?â he laughed quietly.
âdepends.â
âyour powers.â
he rested his forearms against his knees, turning to face you.
âhow do they actually work?â
you stared at the city below for a moment before lifting one hand. watching a soft pink light gather around your fingertips, illuminating the rooftop in a warm glow.
âeverything is made of something.â your voice was calm. âatoms. molecules. matter.â
the light drifted from your hand, surrounding a loose pebble resting beside your shoe.
âi can like, persuade them to become something else.â
the stone dissolved into thousands of shimmering pink particles, floating weightlessly between the two of you.
peter leaned forward, completely captivated.
âthat is so cool.â
the particles swirled through the air before slowly knitting themselves back together. except it was no longer a pebble and in a blink of an eye, resting in the palm of your hand was a tiny pink spider, no bigger than a coin.
its little legs wiggled as it crawled across your fingers, holding it out to a curious peter parker whose eyes were widened.
âfor you.â
peter stared at the tiny spider raising one leg, almost like it was waving at him, which made him burst into laughter. âokayâ thatâs adorable.â
you couldnât help smiling.
âi figured youâd appreciate the theme.â
âi donât think anyoneâs ever made me a spider before.â he carefully let the little spider crawl onto his hand, watching it wander across his knuckles. âwell, i mean mr. stark made a spider suit for me, but thisâ this is different.â
âfirst time for everything.â
he looked at the tiny creature with a grin that lingered longer than he expected. âoh, youâre showing off.â
âmaybe a little.â
âdo another.â
âparker.â
âplease?â
âyouâre impossible.â you rolled your eyes dramatically.
âthatâs not a no.â
the two of you laughed together, the sound disappearing into the open night above manhattan where hours slipped by without either of you noticing.
eventually, you stood, brushing the dust from your clothes. âi should head home.â
âyeah.â he stood beside you.
for a brief second, silence engulfed the space between the two of you.
âsame time next patrol?â he asked.
you smiled. âonly if you promise not to ask me to make spider-shaped everything.â
âno promises.â
you laughed, shaking your head.
âgoodnight, parker.â
before he could reply, pink light wrapped gently around you, then you were gone.
peter looked down at his hand, the tiny pink spider was still sitting there and he smiled to himself.
ââŠyeah,â he murmured to the empty rooftop.
âgoodnight.â
weeks slipped into months.
somewhere between patrols, coffee runs, late-night takeout, and conversations that stretched until sunrise, the superhero life quietly took a backseat whenever the two of you were together.
youâd become normal around him and he was, too.
âokay, this oneâs the one.â peter tossed another piece of popcorn into the air, which only pathetically bounced off his forehead.
ââŠthat didnât count.â
you snorted. âthatâs what you said four popcorns ago.â
âyou should know science is all about trial and error.â
âweâre running out of popcorn.â
âiâm running out of dignity.â
that earned another laugh from you, the movie playing on the television had long faded into background noise.
the two of you sat on the floor surrounded by an embarrassingly empty bowl of popcorn, shoulders occasionally brushing whenever one of you reached for another handful.
out of curiosity and wanting to stretch your neck after hours, you glanced toward the window.
âhey.â
peter followed your gaze.
outside, tiny white flakes drifted from the night sky.
âitâs snowing.â
your voice was quieter than usual. almost childlike, peter noted.
you stood, wandering toward the window as if afraid the moment would disappear before you reached it.
peter stayed where he was, but instead of looking outside, he watched you watch the snow fall with the city lights reflecting against the glass and snowflakes melted the moment they touched the window.
you smiled at the view and for some reason, his chest tightened. not painfully. but with unfamiliar warmth.
when he blinked, there was only you and he didnât know when it happened, or how.
only that somewhere between grocery runs, terrible movies, burnt coffee, and conversations about everything and nothing, you had quietly become his favorite part of every day.
âwanna grab beer?â you asked without turning around.
he blinked. ââŠhuh?â
you looked over your shoulder with a grin. âand more popcorn.â your eyes drifted to the empty bowl. âclearly, we need more for you to waste.â
âhey!â he laughed.
âcome on.â
you nudged him with your shoulder as the two of you left the apartment.
the cold greeted you the moment you stepped outside, snow continued to fall in slow, delicate flakes, and halfway across the street, peter glanced at you again.
you tilted your head when you caught him, âwhat?â
he opened his mouth but nothing came out.
because how could he possibly explain that the first snowfall of winter had somehow become the moment heâd remember for years to come?
that heâd stopped thinking about the life heâd lost and started imagining one with you in it.
before he could say a wordâ âparker!â
your hand caught his wrist.
âlook at the pedestrian light, dumbass.â
you broke into a run across the crosswalk, laughing as you dragged him behind you.
he stumbled after you, laughing just as hard, holding the convenience storeâs doors open, warmth washing over both of you as you hurried inside.
âbeer?â you asked.
âbeer.â
âpopcorn?â
âlots of popcorn.â
you smiled at that, and he smiled back, watching you disappear along the aisles while he patiently waited (he was zoning out) near the counter when you returned with your hands full of canned beers and an enormous bag of popcorn.
while the cashier scanned your beers and replacement bag of popcorn, peter caught the elderly man behind the register smiling to himself.
but not just smiling, more like positively grinning.
ââŠuh.â peter shifted awkwardly. âdid i miss the joke?â
the old man chuckled, pointing a wrinkled finger above their heads, causing the both of you to look up.
hanging from the ceiling, tied with a faded red ribbon, was a sprig of mistletoe.
you blinked. âoh.â
âthere you go.â the cashier finished ringing up the last item before placing everything into a paper bag. he slid the bag across the counter before wiping his hands on his apron. âiâve got some boxes to unpack in the back.â
his eyes twinkled knowingly.
âyou kids know the tradition.â
with one last amused smile, he disappeared through the stockroom door, leaving the two of you standing in the sudden silence.
you slowly looked at peter who was already looking back at you.
âwell,â he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, âaunt may always said traditions exist for a reason.â
your heart skipped.
âdid she?â
âyeah.â
his smile softened. âshe also said theyâre worth keeping alive.â
you cleared your throat, suddenly very interested in the floor.
âthatâs a little unfair.â
âwhy?â
âbecause now if i say no, iâll feel like iâm disappointing your aunt.â
he let out a quiet laugh. âshe wouldâve liked you.â the words escaped before he could stop them, and his ears turned pink almost immediately.
ââŠsorry.â
you smiled. âdonât be.â
a beat passed, peter took a careful step closer. slow enough that you couldâve pulled away, but you didnât.
his hand hesitantly found yours, thumb brushing lightly across your knuckles.
âis this okay?â
but instead of answering, you closed the remaining distance, because answering was never really your thing.
the kiss was brief, awkward at first, because the both of you were smiling too much to quite get it right.
but it was soft. it was the first gentleness peter has felt since god knows when. and to him, it was the kind of kiss that felt less like fireworks and,
Missed opportunity from Sabrina Carpenter not releasing mans best friend as an extended edition of short and sweet called âShort and Swet (long and hard edition)â
Experience a streaming event for the eras. Taylor Swiftâs 6-episode docuseries, âThe End of an Era," streams exclusively on Disney+ beginning December 12. đ«¶
people don't really understand how bad it turned out.
which is odd because idk how much more direct she could be. their entire relationship by the end was based on the premise of being unwell and sad together.
Have you or anyone else you know of transcribed the song intros from the movie yet?
itâs on the theoretical list, though again, weâre at a point where it seems like iâm just too late on any of it. like i said, i really fucked up this promo run, and iâm sorry. i didnât intend to get this behind.
lastly and this really is the end of my like six topic rant it feels really shitty to look at my dash and see numerous vagueposts from mutuals flying around. i do a lot for this fandom and even though i don't ask for anything in return i would at least appreciate people either treating me with kindness, messaging me when they disagree, or simply unfollowing, especially when i go out of my way to treat everyone with kindness as much as possible. i understand this has been a complicated album release with a lot of feelings for a lot of people. but my god
The amount of people saying taylor sued olivia.. please guys... google it.. please.. jack has explicitly said they didnt request credit from olivia, her team did that
I was thinking abt the olivia situation the other day bc it truly does make me mad on olivia's behalf and not bc of taylor or paramore but bc of her team and record label. If you ask me, her two songs sound nothing like misery business and cruel summer, and if they do it's just in the way songs very often sound like each other. There's only so much you can do to make a song unique. It's normal! But when the misery business stuff happened her team super panicked bc olivia was such a new artist and she can't risk a hit in her career like that so they gave credits whether they actually needed to or not. And i realized that it really was a double edged sword. By giving credits, it makes olivia the victim (which is what her team presumably wanted in this case) and taylor and paramore the perpetrators. If they didn't give credits, then olivia is the selfish bitch who knows she copied other artists and won't give credit where credit is due (should clarify this isn't my opinion and never will be). If her team offered the credits and paramore and taylor refused, then it works out fine for both parties image wise, but only if people know they refused. And with the way people believe taylor sued olivia for the credits, we know the public does not care about knowing the real story. Which, in order to unequivocally make olivia the good guy in the situation, they have to give the credits whether the other artists want it or not. This saves olivia's image because it makes the other artists look like selfish bitches, but if you ask me, diminishes her art. And i'm angry she had to do that for sour. She didn't deserve it.
Taylor Swift's 'The Life of a Showgirl' sold 2.7 million copies in the U.S. on its first day of release, according to Luminate.
Taylor Swiftâs The Life of a Showgirl album is off to a sparkling start in the United States. On its first day of release, Oct. 3, the set sold 2.7 million copies in traditional album sales (physical and digital purchases) across all versions of the album, according to initial reports to data tracking firm Luminate. That marks Swiftâs biggest week ever, and the second-largest sales week for any album in the modern era â since Luminate began electronically tracking data in 1991. The only larger sales week in that span of time was registered by the opening frame of Adeleâs 25, which sold 3.378 million copies in its first week in 2015.
Showgirl also stuns with a new modern-era record (1991-present) for the most copies of a vinyl album sold in a single week, having already sold 1.2 million copies on wax. That breaks the single-week record, set by Swift in 2024, when her last album, The Tortured Poets Department, sold 859,000 copies on vinyl in its first week.
Luminateâs sales, streaming and airplay data powers Billboardâs charts. All numbers in this story are for the U.S. only.
Further news of first-week building sales and streaming activity for the album, as provided by Luminate, will be reported in the coming days.
The Life of a Showgirl was announced on Aug. 12, and Swiftâs official webstore began taking preorders for the album soon after. The set was issued as a widely available streaming edition and in three widely available versions to purchase across all participating retailers (a standard CD, vinyl and digital download album). There is a plethora of further variants of the album to purchase, with more details on the assorted versions later in this story.
The sales of The Life of a Showgirl will increase in the coming days, with the current tracking week ending on Thursday, Oct. 9. The albumâs final first-week sales number is expected to be announced on Sunday, Oct. 12, along with its assumed large debut on the multi-metric Billboard 200 albums chart (dated Oct. 18). If The Life of a Showgirl debuts atop the Billboard 200, it will mark Swiftâs 15th No. 1 album, lifting her past Drake and JAY-Z for the most No. 1 albums among soloists, and becoming the sole act with the second-most No. 1s ever. She is currently tied with Drake and JAY-Z with 14 No. 1s each, and only The Beatles, with 19 No. 1s, have more, dating to when the chart began publishing on a regular, weekly basis in 1956.
All 14 of Swiftâs full-length studio albums and re-recorded projects from 2008âs Fearless (her second album) through 2024âs The Tortured Poets Department have debuted at No. 1.
The Billboard 200 chart ranks the most popular albums of the week in the U.S. based on multi-metric consumption as measured in equivalent album units, compiled by Luminate. For all chart news, follow @billboard and @billboardcharts on both X (formerly Twitter) and Instagram.Â
Sales Story: The 2.7 million-sales number registered for Showgirl is inclusive of both over-the-counter and download purchases of the album made on Oct. 3, in addition to what is assumed to be a large number of pre-orders of the physical album through Internet retailers (such as Swiftâs webstore, Amazon, Target, etc.) shipped to customers for arrival on release day, as well as pre-orders of the digital download album that were redeemed on release day (via the iTunes Store and other similar sellers).
After one day on sale, The Life of a Showgirl is the top-selling album of 2025 in the U.S., surpassing the 520,000 sold of The Weekndâs Hurry Up Tomorrow, through the week ending Sept. 25.
The Life of a Showgirlâs sales are bolstered by its availability across 23 different physical configurations: 12 CDs, eight vinyl LPs, two deluxe CD boxed sets containing branded clothing and a CD, and a cassette. Four of the physical editions were exclusively sold by Target stores in the U.S. (three CDs and one vinyl), while two (a standard CD and vinyl) were available to purchase at all participating retailers.
Of the remaining 17 physical iterations, all were exclusively sold via Swiftâs webstore, and most were sold for limited windows of time since the preorder launched in August. Her store carried the two deluxe CD boxed sets (one contains a branded cardigan sweater and a CD, the other contains a branded crewneck and a CD); four signed CDs; four deluxe CDs in premium packaging containing a collectible charm and photo cards; six vinyl LPs; and the cassette.
On the digital download side, there is a standard digital download available to purchase through all download sellers, as well as an iTunes Store-exclusive version that comes with a short bonus video. (Of note, none of the tracks from the album are available to purchase individually.)
To compare, Swiftâs last studio album, The Tortured Poets Department, had 19 different physical iterations available in its first week (nine CDs, six vinyl LPs and four cassettes) and two digital download versions (the standard 16-song album, and the surprise deluxe 31-song Anthology edition).
Vinyl Victory: Collectively, the eight vinyl LPs for Showgirl combined to sell 1.2 million copies on the albumâs first day of release â immediately breaking the modern-era record for the most vinyl copies of an album sold in a single week. Swift herself previously held the record with 859,000 copies of Poets sold in its first week.
Million-Sellers Club: Even though weâre only one day down into the tracking week, The Life of a Showgirl sashays into the single-week million-sellers club. With 2.7 million already sold, Showgirl has the second-largest sales week of the modern era (1991-present). It stands behind only the opening week of Adeleâs 25, which bowed with 3.378 million sold in 2015.
Showgirl is the eighth Swift album to have sold at least 1 million copies in a single week, following the debuts of Poets, 1989 (Taylorâs Version), Midnights, reputation, the original 1989, Red and Speak Now. She is the only act with eight different albums to each sell at least 1 million copies in a single week in the modern era. In total, there have been 27 instances â by 25 different albums â in which an album sold at least 1 million copies in a week in the modern era. One of those albums, Adeleâs 25 sold more than 1 million in three separate weeks.
with every album release, people love saying "oh you just didn't get it!" to those who don't love the new album........ it's such a silly excuse like you can get an album and also not like it. what if someone just doesn't like it. it's literally not always that deep
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