#tiredbuthappy

[in-tenebris-et-in-solitudine]

[alexandrabellalinde]

After conquering peaks all day, I’m ready to fall into bed... or into dreams of my next climb. 🧗‍♀️💤 Who says you can't mix a little thrill with your chill? Catch me if you can, in the realm of soft pillows and high aspirations. 😉✨ #tuesdayevening #climbing #climbingmountains #tired #tiredbuthappy #sunsets #sunsetlovers #sunsetview #sunsetting #sunsetlight #sunsetcolors #sunsetpics #sunsettime #sunsetcliffs #sunsetoftheday #sunsetlove #model #modellife

[missmaywemeetagain]

taglist pt 2

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore

@jazmin2211  @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff  @tiredbuthappy   @saintmagx

@kvcssghbjbcd @butlersluvbot @babydollie43 @vainbimbo @meladollsims @wstelandbaby @dre6ming @normatural @ash-omalley @xcallmetaniax @galvz-42 @thejezebel @fullmetal-falcon @robinismywife @dre6ming @seaweedbrain00 @amiets2 @mslizziesblog @heisatroubleinapinksuit @calusussss @dont-feel-so-good-peter @rainydayz101 @pizzaisrelationshipgoals  

@liaaacantwrite @kittenlittle24 @kaitaesupremacy @butler-trouble @p0lksaladannie 

A Pink Scarf Thanksgiving 💗🧣🦃

A very happy Thanksgiving weekend to those who celebrate! ❤️

This blurb came out of nowhere, in a fit of Thanksgiving inspiration (and a special thanks to Norah for inadvertently nudging me towards a Thanksgiving prompt)! Because of this, it is not overly edited or revised. I will say, I'm not sure yet just how canon I want this to be in terms of the PS Universe, but I figure it came out of me for a reason, so I decided to go with it for now. 

I think my current moody headspace influenced the vibe for this--for us fans, it's a slightly indulgent "what could have been" scenario. But that's PS in a nutshell, isn't it?  🥹

Anyhoo, I hope this hits you in the feels! And I hope you know just how much you matter to me, even though I've been a bit MIA recently. 

Much love xoxoxox, Madi 💗

TW: It's 1977, so...medical issues/trauma/strife. Panic attack. Thanksgiving stress. A little hint of sexy at the end bc I couldn't leave you on a melancholy note! 💋

A Pink Scarf Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving 1977

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. P, but the oven is out. Lamar took a peek, but the thing is as cold as ice and don’t look like it’s gonna be warm any time soon,” Mary says, looking as distraught as you feel. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch it sooner.”

The naked, trussed, and cold turkey on the counter mocks you.

“No, no, it’s not your fault, Mary. We’ll…figure something out,” you try and reassure her, but it feels like a weight has just been placed on your chest. You pinch the bridge of your nose to stave off the massive headache that began early this morning when Nicky barged into your room at the crack of dawn sobbing because he’d had a nightmare that Mr. Gobble Gobble, a monster turkey, had eaten Daddy instead of the other way around.

This was one of many nightmares that your poor little boy had suffered since August, but certainly the first starring a murderous Thanksgiving turkey. He’d barely been consolable and neither of you had gotten back to sleep.

You take a deep breath, holding back the tears that threaten your vision.

Today needs to be perfect. It was supposed to be perfect.

But you should have known. After all, this year has been far from perfect.

You force yourself away from the wave of despair trying to overcome you. No, we’ve been lucky, you think. It could be so much worse.

Unfortunately, your nerves are shot, which makes sense considering the last few months you’ve had. You’ve kept it together so well. You’ve had to. For Nicky. For Elvis. But that tried resolve begins to crumble with the pressure of it all, as though everything that has happened is hitting you all at once.

Now you have a house full of hungry people, Elvis will be home any minute, and your usual quick-footed problem-solving skills have flown out the window. Your hands begin to tremble.

The panic swells as the kitchen swarms with people looking to you for direction, and in that moment, Nicky runs through the adults, chased by one of the other kids. It happens so fast—you barely have time to register the commotion before disaster strikes.

You watch in horror as the kids fly into the sideboard, knocking the precious side dishes and desserts onto the floor with a resounding crash.

The collective gasp of the adults in the room sends your panic into overdrive.

Thanksgiving is officially ruined.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” you shout. The entire room goes silent. It’s not everyday Elvis Presley’s calm and collected wife loses her shit. No, that is something usually reserved for the man himself.

“Well, that’s not quite the welcome home I was expecting,” a familiar baritone chuckles from behind you.

You whip around, your bottom lip quivering. “Elvis?” you whisper.

He’s standing right here—standing! On his own!—leaning on his cane for support, a twinkle in his eye that you haven’t seen in ages. One you weren’t sure you’d ever see again. And the sight of him finally being home again after so many months in the hospital is more than you can bear. After standing tall and strong for him for so long, you crumble into a thousand pieces. An uncontrollable sob chokes out of you, your tears overflowing.

“Aw, honey,” he says quietly, slowly making his way to you, waving everyone else out of the room with the commanding flick of his hand. They exit in a flash with their concerned and pitied looks. Not that you care, because the second you can, you are falling into your husband’s open arms.

“I’m so sorry…your homecoming…it’s all ruined,” you sob into his chest, being mindful of the long scar down the center. Feeling the warmth of him engulfing you is overwhelming. His scent, untainted by antiseptic and hospital smells for the first time in a long time, swirls around you, caressing your senses.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay. Let it all out, Satnin,” he coos, stroking your hair with his free hand. “Hers has been so strong for hims, but hims is home now.”

The tenderness of his baby talk in your ear sends a fresh wave of tears to your eyes, staining the silk of his blue dress shirt. He’s dressed up, you think absently, knowing this is a huge thing. Even before that fateful August morning, he’d been mostly wearing his tracksuits when he wasn’t performing. He’d been so uncomfortable and in pain, you’d understood why.

You bury your head into his neck, pent up emotions violently shuddering through your body as you let your tears fall freely for the first time in months. You can barely breathe with how you wedge yourself into him, with how he holds you tight. He’s so much slimmer now that the edema is gone and his colon has been tended to, you realize, but he’s still soft in all the right places. You still fit against him perfectly, and his grip on you makes you realize he understands just how raw you are.

You cry more, thinking about how the last time he was here was when you’d found him unresponsive on the bathroom floor. How you’d never been so scared in your entire life, not even when you yourself had brushes with death.

It's a miracle he’s here at all. None of you, doctors included, were sure if he’d ever step through the doors of Graceland again. Not after the heart attack, or the coma, or the complications from his various surgeries. It had been one blow after another, for weeks, months. But somehow, in true stubborn Elvis fashion, he’d pulled through.

He’d gritted his way through healing, through physical therapy, through weaning off so many of the meds he’d been on before and during his hospital stay, and he hated every second of it. He’d been livid about the colostomy, but you’d had no care for his vanity when you’d had to make the decision to save his life. You didn’t care if he hated you because at least he’d be alive to tell you so. He’d gotten past it, mostly, especially once he was feeling better.

The entire ordeal had terrified him. Something had changed in him in those weeks he’d lingered between life and death, something he wasn’t ready to talk about just yet, but even with all the setbacks, his determination to come home was intensely motivating.

Which is why you’d wanted it to be special, and why it being Thanksgiving had so much meaning. Elvis was finally coming home. Then everything had gone to hell in a handbasket.

“I wanted everything to be perfect for you. You deserve it,” you say quietly, sniffling, holding him as tight as you dare without wanting to hurt him.

“Darlin’, just bein’ back home with you and Nicky is more than I ever dreamed of. I don’t need no big fancy dinner or welcome home committee. I jus’ need you.”

You pull back then, your heart about ready to burst, and look at him. He looks downright debonair with his silvery hair (which you’d convinced him not to dye back after it had grown out during his illness), freshly cut and shorter than it had been in years, fluffy but brushed back off his face in a style reminiscent to when he was younger. His apple cheeks are full and have more color than they’ve had in months.

“What?” he asks looking down at you, almost bashful under your gaze.

You reach up and cup his freshly shaven cheek, smooth and soft under your palm. Those deep ocean blue eyes of his threaten to swallow you whole. Staring into their depths, you don’t want to imagine a world without him in it anymore.

“I just love you,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out without choking up again. “So much.”

Eyes shining, Elvis pulls you up and into him. His lips are as sweet and as soft as you remember when they press into yours. The kiss is full of yearning, of love, and of everything you two have been through the past twenty years. It’s truly like coming home.

The kiss turns hungry then, more so than you expect. It’s been so very long since you’ve had each other in this way and it surprises you how readily your body remembers, despite all the pain and trauma you both have experienced. You open for him, and he moans when his tongue brushes against yours. A fiery wave of heat blisters through you then, hastily banishing away your tears.

Despite all the challenges you’ve faced over the years, you’ve always felt the pull of him in your soul. You’ve always wanted him, neededhim, even when you convinced yourself to forget because you thought you couldn’t have him. And now, after almost losing him for good, you can think of nothing else but him. The warmth of his body pressed against yours causes you to melt. The way his lips and hands roam over the curves of your body sends you soaring.

You thought you’d never have this again. It had almost broken you.

“I’m here, baby. I’m home, I promise,” he mutters into your skin, as if reading your mind.

You kiss him deeply, yanking him into you by his pretty shirt, taking his breath away.

He pulls away and presses his forehead to yours, and you can feel him sway on his feet, a little unbalanced.

“Good news—looks like Little Elvis is back in working order,” he says breathlessly, pressing his thickening erection into your belly. He seems pleasantly surprised.

Honestly, with everything dire that happened, it hadn’t even crossed your mind as a concern, but it makes sense that it could be an issue. You grin up at him with the knowledge that it isn’t, then roll your hips against him.

He groans. “Bad news—not sure I have the energy to do all the things I wanna to ya, and we got a house full of people.” Doesn’t stop him from grabbing a handful of your bottom, however.

“Oh, that’s never stopped us before, now has it?” you muse, walking your fingers gently down his chest and over his belly to palm his length.

“Lord have mercy, woman,” he moans, his eyes fluttering closed. You notice him lean more heavily on his cane and instantly ease up. One blue eye opens with a quirked brow. “Hey now, I din’t say stop.”

You laugh. “Well, it seems dinner is ruined anyhow,” you say, surveying the disaster of broken dishes and scattered food all over the floor, and the cold, raw turkey on the counter. “Maybe we better get you upstairs to rest.”

Rest is, of course, the furthest thing from your mind now, which you let him know with a little squeeze to his butt.

“Mmhmm, yes, I definitely need to lie down,” he mumbles as he peppers you with kisses. Suddenly, he freezes against you. “But, honey, I-I-I’m not sure how much I can do,” he whispers, a wave of uncertainty washing over him.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll take it slow. Real slow. One step at a time, like fumbling teenagers,” you say lightly, cupping his face and looking up into his eyes. “Or we can just kiss and hold each other. I’m just happy you’re here, baby.”

He nods, seemingly reassured by this. “I know I don’t say it as much as I should, but I thank God every day for you and for what we have together, Satnin,” he says quietly, brushing your hair behind your ear, kissing you gently. “I love you.”

Your heart and body ache for him. “We better get you upstairs to “rest”before I start crying again,” you snuffle, laughing, slowly walking with him toward the stairs.

“Well, tears aren’t entirely off the table…I can think of a couple good ways I can make you cry,” he teases, nibbling at your ear.

“Elvis Aaron, you did not just…” you gasp.

“What??” he says innocently. “Am I wrong?”

A shiver runs down your spine and settles in the heat of your belly.

You’ve missed him. Terribly.

But you do have so much to be thankful for this year, namely for the infuriatingly talented, generous, and stubborn man you married and are gingerly leading up the stairs for the first time in months.

In fact, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

*

Taglist Pt 1

@eliseinmemphis@russian-soft-bitch@tattywood

@sassanoe@thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle@carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23

 @littlebitofgreen@paigevis@bugg06@xhannahbananax03@artlover8992

@18lkpeters@frozenhuntress67@girlblogger2002@kendralavon7@misspresley

@be-my-ally @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @thatbanditqueen @powerofelvis @from-memphis-with-love

 @precious-lil-scoundrel @stylespresleyhearted @prompted-wordsmith @crash-and-cure @elvisgf @lookingforrainbows @fic-over-cannon @godlypresley @ab4eva @whatstruthgottodowithit @elvisabutler @amydarcimarie@idontwanttoputanything @callieselvisobsessed @captainamerica1235-blog  @xenaspace3-blog 

@simplyamberj@claire-elvisgirl@everythingelvispresley@louisejoy86@deniseinmn @madelynpresley

[tiredbuthappy]

Hey friends!

If you like my work, please add yourself to my taglist!

This is the only way I will be tagging people in fics from now on! Thank you so much for reading!

[purpleshirtedeyestabber]

I’ve been up since 3am...and this is what I’ve been doing. #insomniac #riseandshine #wakeandbake #sendhelp #tiredbuthappy #issame (at Need-A-Nap) https://www.instagram.com/p/CNzrpfQABhS/?igshid=14xu3fgoacyiu

[lizbaffoe]

#goodnight #😘 #staysafe #staysafeandhealthy # teamworkmakesthedreamwork #staypositive #tiredbuthappy #everythingwillbefine #trust #patience #loveyourself #love #peace #❤️ (hier: Cologne, Germany) https://www.instagram.com/p/CJozvTplDWP/?igshid=1mwhgmzyxlha1

[acsec]

quotang-quota today! 20h na & omw home pa lang 😅 been working since i woke up at 05h — 15-hour work today, well technically more than 15 hours since i didn’t have enough/good sleep because i keep dreaming on how to solve the problems on the conference programme 😢 hirap pag sobrang marami kang pake sa mga bagay-bagay — bawi ako, i’ll make sure i’ll enjoy my 3-night stay sa Hotel Negresco from sunday 😏 babawasan ko ang pake, gawin kong staycation hehehe 😂 bukas mag WFH tlaga ako, kailangan ng katawang lupa magpahinga 👁🧠 di pa pala ako nag didinner huhuhu — ilang araw na ako libre sa lunch pero di ko na ma-enjoy sa sobrang daming iniisip hahaha 😝 sana may bonus to hehe 😜 #amazingadventuresofbeaujethro #overtime #work #conference #nice2020 #gdr2088 #internationalconference #science #filipinoscientist #tiredbuthappy #fatigue #bioinspiration (at Nice, France) https://www.instagram.com/p/CGAyCRVBe07/?igshid=1rrdqaeh968n9

[maracozzolino]

e anche il pomeriggio di introduzione alla xilografia giapponese è andato. 4 ore ovviamente non sono abbastanza per imparare tutti i passaggi si questa incredibile tecnica, ma sono sufficienti per passare un pomeriggio divertente a sperimentare con le sgorbie e con il colore. domani seconda giornata di corso base e poi mi riposo un po’ 😊 #atelierA #apricale #xilografia #giapponese #japanese #woodcut #workshop #corso #whitelines #ugouge #japanesepaper #cartagiapponese #tiredbuthappy (at Apricale) https://www.instagram.com/p/B030aVggWdw/?igshid=agpc09piwgir

[shopsui]

Walking home after a full week at #newjob #tiredbuthappy #architecture #smithstreetfitzroy #sorefeet #blueskies #weekend #saturday (at Smith Street, Collingwood) https://www.instagram.com/p/B3ysTnMg9U1/?igshid=17y33kf10jbil

[sevenringsblingbling]

😒

One day that special man will come along with all the bells and whistles and he’ll actually walk the walk not just whisper sweet nothings in your ear. Trust in the process. It’s all for your greater good :)

[lg1988]

［entre rios🔛casi 500kilometros ］ #argentina#entrerios#idayvuelta#weekend#roadtrip#tiredbuthappy#go#instapic#instagood#instamoment#instaphoto#picofday#end（在 El Talar De Pacheco, Buenos Aires, Argentina） https://www.instagram.com/p/Bx8GqpilQl_/?igshid=958p68iy07hn

[missmaywemeetagain]

taglist pt 2

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore

@jazmin2211  @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff  @tiredbuthappy   @saintmagx

@kvcssghbjbcd @butlersluvbot @babydollie43 @vainbimbo @meladollsims @wstelandbaby @dre6ming @normatural @ash-omalley @xcallmetaniax @galvz-42 @thejezebel @fullmetal-falcon @robinismywife @dre6ming @seaweedbrain00 @amiets2 @mslizziesblog @heisatroubleinapinksuit @calusussss @dont-feel-so-good-peter @rainydayz101 @pizzaisrelationshipgoals  

@liaaacantwrite @kittenlittle24 @kaitaesupremacy @butler-trouble @p0lksaladannie 

The Sound of Your Cry (A Scarf Exclusive!) is out now on Patreon!

Click HERE to join and read now! 💙

Sneak Peek:

TW: Flashbacks/PTSD/panic attacks related to previous abuse, Jack is mentioned, Elvis being protective, sexxy times!!

Late January, 1970

While Elvis chatters away to Jerry, the elevator gets smaller and smaller the higher it climbs towards the penthouse. It’s a trip you’ve made many times, yet this time has you nervously twisting the diamond engagement ring on your finger and your heart slamming against your ribs. The air is stuffy and thin, and you can’t seem to get enough of it to properly breathe.

The door finally dings, sliding open, and the men spill out of the elevator unceremoniously, leaving you lingering in the back. As much as you want to get out of the tiny box, it seems worse to walk down the hallway. Worse to open the door to all the things you’d rather forget.

Your unease started all the way back in Tennessee, inching in slowly as the new year faded. The bustle of your engagement and the celebration of Elvis’ 35th birthday took up the beginning weeks of the year, but as the date of his new festival in Las Vegas inched closer, the more your stomach churned.

It is just nerves, you thought at first. Your debut performance as one of Elvis’ backup singers is a big deal, especially for someone like you with next to no experience on stage, much less with someone as famous as your fiancé. That had to be why the thought of getting on a plane to Las Vegas made you want to throw up.

But the moment you entered the International, you realized that wasn’t it at all...

Click HERE to join to read the rest!

Taglist Pt 1

@eliseinmemphis@russian-soft-bitch@tattywood

@sassanoe@thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle@carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23

 @littlebitofgreen@paigevis@bugg06@xhannahbananax03@artlover8992

@18lkpeters@frozenhuntress67@girlblogger2002@kendralavon7@misspresley

@be-my-ally @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @thatbanditqueen @powerofelvis @from-memphis-with-love

 @precious-lil-scoundrel @stylespresleyhearted @prompted-wordsmith @crash-and-cure @elvisgf @lookingforrainbows @fic-over-cannon @godlypresley @ab4eva @whatstruthgottodowithit @elvisabutler @amydarcimarie@idontwanttoputanything @callieselvisobsessed @captainamerica1235-blog  @xenaspace3-blog 

@simplyamberj@claire-elvisgirl@everythingelvispresley@louisejoy86@deniseinmn @madelynpresley

[unfoldingnarratives]

Walking home after a workout and seeing the new Moon come out to play! #newmoon #bananainthesky #posttraining #madrid #luna #cielo #tiredbuthappy #showupforyourself https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn2o9bmsWh7/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[q8asar-t]

yeah, it's too late at night, but ..anyways i like this sketch #drawing #colouredpencil #pencildrawing #portraitphotography #portrait #nightdrawing #blackhair #curlyhair #tiredbuthappy #art #myart #realisticdrawing #realism #ivetried #yunkousunrise https://www.instagram.com/p/Bs1iIhagzlk/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1lf5j1t0zjntl

[naturalbowwoman]

Archery life! :-) I'm hot and tired but happy after a long, practice session in this photo. It was late morning and was already hot from the summer sun. . . . . #archery #archerylife #archeryphoto #happyarcher #happywoman #hotnotbothered #hotwoman #life #longbow #practicesession #latemorning #summerarchery #summersunshine #tiredbuthappy #tiredwoman #traditionalarchery #warrior #warriorwoman #woman #womanarcher

[maracozzolino]

another great workshop with some amazing ladies is finished! so pleased by the final prints and general enthusiasm.. great time spent here in Monaco .. will miss this amazing view! #mokuhanga #workshop #xilografia #giapponese #japanese #woodcut #japanesewoodcut #xilografiagiapponese #mokuhangaworkshop #artistoninstagram #workshop #womanprintmaker #artist #womanartist #tiredbuthappy #printmaking #printmaker #woodblock (at Monaco) https://www.instagram.com/p/BxK07DVn3o-/?igshid=1i5kwzq97oocr