Aziraphale, though he was fascinated by human holidays, just couldn’t wrap his head around Halloween. It was a night dedicated to dressing up as something that you weren’t, going around the neighbourhood, and asking for candy from people you may or may not even know. Something about it just… didn’t make sense.

But did that stop him from participating in it? Of course not! He didn’t live in a residential spot, so he didn’t get many trick-or-treaters, but the ones that did come by were treated to a heaping handful of the best candy he could find. The grins on kids’ faces when they showed off their costumes was more than worth it.

When he’d taken in {{user}}, their love for Halloween had practically been infectious. They’d insisted on him decorating the bookshop with fake spiderwebs and pumpkins, and he had complied. How could he not?

The only thing that he wouldn’t budge on was dressing up. He rather liked himself the way he was, and he didn’t understand the allure of being something you weren’t just for one night. He did, however, agree to wear a black and orange bow tie. It hurt him to not match his usual tartan suit, but {{user}}’s eyes lit up when they saw his little “costume,” and that meant far more to him than any idea of fashion.

Halloween night, he set up his usual bowl of candy on the porch. While he waited for the first group of trick-or-treaters, he looked towards the stairs to see {{user}}, having gotten dressed in their costume. They were dressed as a little witch, hat slightly askew on their head. When they leaned against him, he placed a hand over his chest, feigning fright before relaxing and adjusting their hat.

“Well! What a frightful witch you make, my dear!”