#santa tf

[roller6262]

Singhta

You couldn't wait for the holiday break, already wearing your Christmas sweater and Santa hat. Just a few more things to pack and you would be leaving you dorm to head to your hometown.

While packing the last items for your trip, you turn to see your dorm mate Saheb moping on his bed. "What's got you down?" you ask him.

"Just sad that I won't be seeing my family during the break." Saheb sighed.

"Didn't you just see your family a few months ago?" you asked rhetorically. You remembered your Punjabi dorm mate travelling to India in October for Dawali, which Saheb explained to you as a kind of Indian New Years. As far as you were concerned, trading Christmas for Diwali seemed like an equivalent exchange. "By the way, can you pass me that star-shaped tree topper?" you requested while bending down to place more items in your suitcase.

"It's not the same" Saheb refuted, "When I left for Diwali, you still had most of the campus still around to keep you company. But today, almost all of the students are going to leave for Christmas and I'll be all alone." Saheb grabbed the star shaped tree topper and looked down at it in his grasp. He usually couldn't see what Americans saw in the plastic star with cheap lights, but in that moment it symbolized the family time they would have that Saheb would not. The feeling was almost magical.

Normally would would have been more comforting towards your dorm mate, but your rush to get home and lack of sympathy for Saheb's situation made your response just a bit too sarcastic. "Yeah? Well it's too bad you Sikh's don't believe in Santa. Otherwise he'd probably give you company this Christmas."

"I wish I wasn't the only Sikh left here for Christmas." Saheb looked down at the star-shaped tree topper and saw it light up. He thought it odd, was the cheap thing plugged in?

You are startled by a jolt through your body making you stand up straight. "Vhat vas dhat?" Your voice sounded off.

You thought your Santa hat felt tighter, not realizing it had changed into a soft red turban. You also scratched at your Christmas sweater as it suddenly felt hot and itchy with your new body hair. You couldn't tell what was wrong, but you were starting to forget why you wanted to leave in the first place. You needed to get away as soon as possible. "Vell can you hand me dhat starr Veer ji. I rreally musd be going" your R's roll in your accented voice.

Saheb didn't seem to register what you said, still looking down at the glowing star. "I wish I did have a Santa here to keep me company."

You winced at your Christmas sweater becoming even more uncomfortable. You looked down to see it stuffed beyond reason with your bloating belly. The growth and jiggling made the fabric rub against your thick body hair, a sensation that was absolutely tickling on your softer fat stomach. "My God! Vhat is hap- ha- stop id- haha- HOHOHO!" you release a jolly deep belly laugh. Your sweater becomes a much more comfortable white kurta with a red sherwani on top, giving you much more room for your jostling gut. You arch your back and hold your belly to deliver another joyous laugh. "HOHOHO!" a rosey color paints your chubby cheeks above your snow white beard. You look down at Saheb, who seems to finally take notice of you again.

"W- who are you?"

"Me? Vhy, I am Singhta of courrse! I hearrd you have been a verry good bacha ji this yearr.

"I-" Saheb stammers, not sure what is going on, but knowing this is what he wanted, "Yes, I guess I have!"

"Dhen id is dime forr your prresend!" With a flick of your wrist, Saheb's pants fell down like winter snow. You gazed hungrily at his kacchera, the underwear tied with a drawstring Sikhs wear to protect their modesty. With another flick of your wrist you turned that drawstring into the kind of ribbon one would find on a Christmas present. You could not wait to see what gift was inside.

[13uckaroo]

Christmas came early. ✨🎅 An anonymous sketch sequence

[hairyjocktf]

Could you turn me into Santa Claus? I want my cookie cravings to make me fat, furry, and bald. I’ll grow a massive white beard and my body hair will lighten to match. Ho ho ho!

It’s officially winter, and snow is starting to fall outside as you sit by the crackling fire. The smell of fresh cookies wafts in from the kitchen; you’d put in a roll of store bought dough earlier. With your stomach already growling you hop up and pull them out of the oven. The smell is intoxicating, and you set out to cool, barely able to make it a couple minutes before you grab one and stuff it in your mouth. The sweet and salty dough alongside the bittersweet chocolate is exactly the flavor rush you needed. You head back to the fireplace and leave the rest of the cookies to cool, letting out a burp. When you sit back down, your belly jiggles just a little more. As you scroll on your phone, your average frame starts growing a little heavier. You sink further into the plush chair, weighing a few pounds more. Your stomach growls again. You swear you just ate, but maybe the cookies are cool enough by now. In a few seconds another large cookie sits in your hands as you devour it. Without even noticing, another five pounds adds itself to your belly. A number of wispy hairs poke out of your smooth chest as you stuff the remains of the cookie down your throat. They’re unbelievably good, but you should leave some for later. 

Well, maybe just one more, you tell yourself as you grab another, chowing down as you walk back towards the fire. Your belly grows more, and your pecs soften as they push out slightly. Your thighs grow a few inches and your jawline starts to lose its definition. A slight shadow inches down across your jaw and over your upper lip as peach fuzz darkens and thickens. Your stomach rumbles as more and more fat begins loading itself on your frame, your arms and legs plumping up, muscle growing in but quickly buried beneath the chub. As you finish off the cookie your body starts to itch. The wispy fuzz across your chest begins to grow thicker and darker, new hairs popping up across the expanse as your pecs sag even more. Dark hairs sprout across your chest and spread up and over your shoulders before your still growing belly is also buried beneath the growing pelt. Your armpits tingle as wiry hairs blossom and quickly become a sweaty tuft of hair. Your slight stubble follows suit, follicles pumping out long dark hairs as the covering grows dense. The hairs pushing out of your cheeks keep going, multiple inches long. Even your arms and legs start growing their own fur, with dense black hairs across your forearms and crawling out of the backs of your hands. Your belly adds another few inches as it starts to hang fully over your waistline. You let out a thunderous belch as you sink further into the chair, rubbing your hairy belly as your shirt rides up on it.

A few minutes later your stomach growls again. It just won’t give up today. With some significant effort you hoist yourself to your (now larger) feet and head back to the kitchen. There’s still quite a few cookies sitting out, and right as you look at them your stomach rumbles. You swipe two and cram them down your gullet. Your thickening fingers make them look small, so eating two isn’t a big deal. Immediately your gut springs forward another inch, the hair on it thickening and growing longer. The hair in the center of your chest thickens, hairs curling together as your beard reaches down towards them, pushing out longer and longer. Your hairline begins to inch back, revealing more of your forehead as you scratch at it, oblivious to the changes. This isn’t the only thing adding years to you though, as the black hairs in your beard one by one start to lose their color. The bright white spreads through your bushy beard and mustache, both of which are still pushing out of your face, and spreads up to what little remains on top of your head as male pattern baldness accelerates. You eat another couple cookies, absolutely cramming them into your mouth to try and satisfy your body. Crumbs go everywhere, getting trapped in your thick beard and falling into the rug of hair coating your chest. As soon as the crumbs touch the hairs they too go white, the bleaching effect spreading across your moobs and belly. Your gut continues to grow larger and larger, fat piling on as you finish off the last of the cookies. With a final belch the rest of the fur across your body turns white and your beard shoots out another inch. You really do look like Santa now, just in time for the holidays.

[ultram0th]

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Here's a quick rendering of everyone's favorite grumpy werewolf turning into Santa Claus, complete with a big, hairy belly!

[chubbydrawer]

*now on patreon* the transformation begins as Scott preps for another year of toy deliveries! #maleweightgain #fat #chubby #thick #gainer #gainerart #chubart #fatart #fatter #thicker #poppingbuttons #poppingseams #tightclothes #rippedclothes

[vozart]

happy holidays

[welcometothesewers]

I got to participate in the @skystar-secret-santa this year! Happy Holidays Boltshok! It was so fun making demon and god designs for skystar!

[celebtf]

TAYLOR’S CHRISTMAS SWAP

The agency’s annual Christmas event was in full swing, a dazzling spectacle of lights, laughter, and luxury. Taylor Zakhar Perez was the evening’s center of attention, effortlessly charming everyone with his megawatt smile and confident air. Clad in a perfectly tailored suit, he moved through the crowd like a star in his element.

Near the corner of the room, a Santa sat in an oversized red chair, surrounded by festive decorations and a line of children. This Santa, with his bushy white beard, rosy cheeks, and jiggling belly, seemed straight out of a classic Christmas card. But Taylor saw none of the magic.

“Seriously?” Taylor sneered to his friend. “Who hired that guy? Did he walk in off the street? Look at him—he’s a walking cliché. The beard’s faker than my last co-star’s Botox, and that belly? He’s probably been chugging eggnog since Halloween.”

His friend chuckled nervously. “Come on, Taylor, it’s just for the kids.”

“Yeah, but even kids deserve better acting. Watch this.” Taylor sauntered over, his grin twisting into something smug.

“Hey, Santa,” he said loudly, drawing the attention of nearby partygoers. “Tell me—do you practice that jolly laugh in front of a mirror, or does it come naturally with all the cookies you shove down your throat?”

Santa looked up, his icy blue eyes meeting Taylor’s. He said nothing, but his gaze held an unnerving intensity.

Unfazed, Taylor kept going. “And the beard? Is it glued on, or do you just wake up like that after a long nap? Honestly, I’ve seen mall Santas with better game.”

The room grew quiet as more people turned to watch. Santa stood slowly, his presence towering despite his bulk.

“You think this is a joke, young man?” Santa’s voice was deep and resonant, carrying a weight that made Taylor falter for a split second.

“Relax, old man,” Taylor said with a smirk. “I’m just giving you some pointers. Maybe next year, you can step it up.”

Santa’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “Perhaps it’s time you learned the weight of the role you so lightly mock.”

Before Taylor could respond, Santa snapped his fingers.

The world around them froze. Conversations stopped mid-word, laughter hung suspended in the air, and even the twinkling lights seemed to pause.

“What the—” Taylor began, but Santa snapped his fingers again.

A strange heat surged through Taylor’s body, starting at his chest and radiating outward. He clutched his stomach as a strange pressure built inside him.

“What’s happening?!” he gasped.

His thick black hair turned ashen gray, the strands lengthening and curling wildly. His smooth, youthful face began to wrinkle, deep crow’s feet etching themselves around his eyes. He reached up in horror as a thick, snow-white beard erupted from his chin, growing longer and fuller with each passing second.

The pressure in his abdomen intensified. His taut, sculpted abs softened, then ballooned outward into a massive, round belly that jiggled with every panicked breath. His toned thighs thickened, straining the seams of his expensive trousers before they reshaped themselves into red velvet pants. His arms and chest swelled, his entire frame growing bulkier and heavier.

“No, no, no!” Taylor cried, his voice deepening into a rich, resonant baritone.

His designer suit shimmered, morphing into a plush red coat trimmed with white fur. Black boots materialized on his feet, their polished surfaces gleaming under the frozen lights. A pair of wire-rimmed glasses appeared in his hand, as if mocking his transformation further.

While Taylor’s body grew heavier and older, Santa’s did the opposite. The heavy weight of his belly receded, replaced by the taut, defined muscles of a man in his prime. His white hair darkened, shortening into a stylish cut that framed his now-youthful face. The thick beard vanished, leaving his jaw clean-shaven and sharp.

Santa flexed his fingers, marveling at the vitality coursing through his veins. He patted his flat stomach, grinning.

“Well, this feels… refreshing,” he said, his voice now identical to Taylor’s. He glanced down at his oversized Santa suit, which hung loosely on his newly slender frame, and laughed. “Guess I’ll need a new wardrobe.”

He turned to Taylor—now the perfect likeness of Santa Claus—and smirked. “How’s it feel, big guy? Heavy, isn’t it? The beard, the belly, the responsibility.”

Taylor stared at his reflection in a nearby ornament, his expression a mix of horror and disbelief.

“This can’t be real!”

“Oh, it’s very real,” Santa said, slipping the glasses onto Taylor’s nose. “You wanted to make fun of Santa? Well, now you are Santa. Merry Christmas.”

He snapped his fingers again.

The room came alive once more, the hum of conversation and laughter resuming as if nothing had happened.

Taylor—now Santa—stood frozen, his oversized red suit fitting him perfectly now.

“Taylor!” someone called, approaching Santa. “Nice touch with the Santa suit! You look amazing!”

Taylor - now Santa ,turned his protests dying in his throat as everyone treated him as if he’d always been the party’s Santa.

Meanwhile, Santa—now Taylor—mingled with ease, his youthful face beaming as he charmed the crowd.

Taylor sank into the oversized chair, his heart pounding as he realized the extent of his predicament. He was no longer the star of the evening. He was Santa Claus.

And somewhere across the room, the real Santa—now free of his ancient role—smiled in satisfaction, knowing he’d delivered the ultimate Christmas lesson.

[saxandviolins77]

Gravedigger for @gravediggersonlyfan (and the other three people who asked me if I was going to draw Gravedigger)

LINEART UNDER THE CUT (because I'm awesome balls)

[kairukitsuneo]

MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄🎅 🎁🎁🎁 Come get your gift (no

[pizza-skeleton]

Secret Santa I made for someone on discord :]

[cverotten]

Christmas YCH, DM if intrested ;)

[czcreation]

I LOVE THE CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!!!! RAGHHHH

traced this from that eddsworld episode

[13uckaroo]

Sumo santa. 🎅 Sketch commission for @/RengaRyuk on twitter.

[hardwriterdeluxe]

Santa’s Toy Factory

It was a snowy Christmas Eve, and the downtown streets were alive with glittering lights and bustling holiday shoppers. Among them was Jake, a slim, lithe guy whose delicate features and playful confidence turned heads wherever he went. Jake had always been the quintessential twink—lean, energetic, and effortlessly charming. Tonight, he was making his way home from the gym, his cropped hoodie and short shorts showing off his toned frame, when he noticed something unusual.

Nestled between two old storefronts was a pop-up shop he swore hadn’t been there the day before. A festive sign above the door read: “Santa’s Toy Factory” in bold, glittering letters. The windows were frosted, but colorful lights danced within, and faint, cheerful jingles played in the background. Jake smirked, feeling an odd mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Probably some cheesy holiday gimmick,” he muttered, but something about it drew him in.

Pushing the door open, Jake was greeted by a wave of warm air scented with peppermint and cinnamon. Inside, the shop was like a Christmas wonderland: shelves lined with toys, sparkling garlands, and mannequins dressed as elves. But the place was empty, eerily so.

“Hello?” Jake called out, his high, melodic voice echoing. No response. Just as he turned to leave, a door at the back of the shop creaked open, revealing a glowing, candy-cane-striped hallway.

“Alright, let’s see what’s back there,” Jake said to himself, his gym bag slung over one shoulder. He stepped into the hallway, the sound of his sneakers muffled by the plush red carpet. At the end of the corridor was a large room filled with conveyor belts and machinery that looked straight out of a whimsical factory. Brightly wrapped presents moved along the belts, disappearing into chutes.

“Guess Santa’s hiring elves on a budget this year,” Jake joked, chuckling. But before he could explore further, the door slammed shut behind him.

“What the—” He turned, but the door had vanished, replaced by a solid wall. Panic flared briefly before a mechanical arm shot out from the ceiling, grabbing his wrist.

“Hey! Let go!” Jake yelped, struggling against the surprisingly strong grip. More arms emerged, securing his limbs and lifting him onto one of the conveyor belts. His gym bag fell to the floor as he was pinned flat on his back.

“This isn’t funny! Let me go!” he shouted, but the factory ignored his protests. The conveyor belt began to move, carrying him toward a series of machines. His hoodie and shorts were quickly shredded away by precision lasers, leaving him in nothing but his bright pink briefs. Then, even those disintegrated into a puff of smoke, leaving him completely naked.

Jake thrashed, his lithe, toned body glistening under the bright lights. “What the hell is this?” he whimpered. But before he could struggle further, a spray of warm, glossy red latex paint hit his chest.

The paint was oddly soothing as it spread across his skin, coating him from neck to toe in a gleaming, skintight Santa outfit. The latex hugged his slight frame perfectly, but as the conveyor carried him forward, his body began to change. His narrow hips flared slightly, his thighs filling out to become shapely and firm. His abs, while lean, gained subtle definition, and his arms softened slightly but retained their delicate tone. His chest developed a slight curve, accentuating his trim, hourglass silhouette.

Jake groaned as his reflection warped in the chrome machinery. His face tingled as his sharp jawline softened ever so slightly, giving him a youthful yet striking allure. His cheeks flushed, and a dusting of pink settled on them permanently, making his skin appear smooth and flawless. His lips became fuller, plump, and inviting, while his bright blue eyes sparkled with mischievous energy.

As he moved further down the conveyor, more changes occurred. Black latex fingerless gloves slid onto his hands, and a matching harness with silver accents materialized across his chest, tightening snugly. Gleaming white fluff trimmed the edges of his outfit—from the low neckline of his red latex top to the short, flared Santa skirt that barely covered his rounded, pert backside. Knee-high black latex boots appeared on his feet, the chunky heels clicking on the conveyor as he shifted.

Jake gasped as a black choker appeared around his neck, adorned with a small silver bell that jingled softly. A Santa hat, tipped jauntily, rested atop his now snowy-white hair, styled in soft waves. The transformation wasn’t just physical, though; Jake’s mind filled with a bubbly confidence and a mischievous, flirtatious charm.

“Ho, ho, ho…” Jake purred, his voice high and sultry. His hands ran over his latex-clad body, the material squeaking slightly. “Santa’s never looked this good.”

The conveyor belt stopped, and the mechanical arms released him. Jake hopped down, the heels of his boots clicking on the polished floor. A door opened, revealing a room filled with twinkling lights and an inviting lounge area. A group of men, their eyes wide and cheeks flushed, stood waiting. They were dressed as elves, their outfits tight and barely covering their toned bodies. Jake grinned wickedly as he sashayed toward them, his hips swaying.

“Alright, boys,” he said, his voice a teasing sing-song. “Who’s ready to sit on Santa’s lap?”

The pop-up shop, as it turned out, wasn’t a toy store at all. It was Santa’s secret way of giving back to the queer community, transforming deserving souls into their most authentic, confident selves. And Jake? He was no longer the playful twink who had wandered in off the street. He was now Santa’s mischievous latex darling, ready to spread a very special kind of Christmas magic.

[godidontgaf]

he said he’d take mikey home but he just started taking tough guy selfies for twitter instead