ghosthuntingwithmicah

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

Micah had seen the countless tweets and youtube comments, tiktoks and instagram reels, and even the occasional thinkpiece that declared he was unprofessional and undermined the honest, good work that Joey Claremont was doing, but he couldn’t help himself. Teasing his best friend and lightening the tone as they hunted ghost was kind of his thing, after all. He knew that the exasperated look on Joey’s face was one that remained fond and took no real stock in the things people had to say about him online. Well, okay, so maybe she’d once threatened to personally haunt instagram user @makeamericaghostagain after they’d ridiculed the traditional Nigerian garments he’d been wearing in a post from his sister’s wedding. Or when she’d insisted that she hoped prolific tweeter and Paranormal Happenings fanboy @joeyclaremontsrightdimple stepped on lego after he’d complained – at length – about the fact that Micah’s mom had spoken Yoruba to him over the phone in a brief cameo on the show. Joey as Micah’s biggest fan and absolute ride or die, which is exactly why she never let shitty little keyboard warriors stain her perspective of him. 

And it was yet another reason why he felt so at home teasing and taunting her, knowing the pair of them would come out on top and deliver some of their best content yet. 

“Hey, aliens can be ghosts too,” he grinned, before using his free hand to mime zipping his lips shut and securely locking them after she smacked his arm. He pouted at her, pretending the blow had been harsher than it was, before slowly panning the camera away from Joey once more and back across the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of even the faintest spectre. 

Light-footed and without so much as a peep from behind his camcorder, Micah followed Joey as they headed in the direction she’d suggested. His best friend called out nervously as she tried to draw out somebody, anybody, into their sphere. Truthfully, he wouldn’t mind if none of them ever made an appearance. They’d done enough research for him to know that word of YJR’s hauntings dated as far back as 156 years ago, and he didn’t feel so keen about bumping into the Whaley’s themselves either. For someone who actively participated in a tv show about haunted buildings and trying to coax out spirits, Micah thought he’d had more than his fair share of experiences with ghosts to last him a lifetime. 

A noise sounded suddenly, a huge crash as something collided with the ground, causing Joey to careen directly into him. The camera tilted ever so slightly in his fist as he leaned into Joey’s touch, but still remained steadily focused on the room, even if Micah’s own attention had strayed. His heart pounded in his chest as he felt Joey’s face press into his neck, his free hand wrapping securely around her waist, securing her against him. There was something warm and comforting about a cuddle from Joey, even if it was due to her current state of fear, her breathing ragged as she shook against his form. 

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he soothed, his voice low as his words were soon cut off by the sound of Marty making an appearance. Micah’s eyes widened momentarily before he barked out a laugh, the sound catching in his throat as amusement mingled with nerves. He’d hardly allowed himself the chance to feel frightened or concerned with the prospect of an angry spirit coming to yell at him for an ill-advised nickname, all of his energy instead zeroing in on how warm Joey felt in his arms. Carefully, Micah planted a chaste kiss to Joey’s hair – camera pointed at Marty only, if only to avoid fans making mountains out of molehills for the umpteenth time – as she leaned against his shoulder, smiling down at her as she pulled away, flushed and looking a little embarrassed. 

“Hey, it could be worse, right? I’m pretty sure I’d much prefer to be down here dealing with the Whaley’s and YJR than up there listening to Jeff throw another hissy fit,” Micah shrugged, shooting Marty a reassuring wink. He’d have to cut that part out later, but he wouldn’t be totally bummed if Jeff ‘accidentally’ heard about it first. 

Joey raised an eyebrow at Micah’s greeting for any entity that might be sharing the room with them. Her eyes darted around in consideration before she threw a look at him over his shoulder.

“Micah, I think that greeting might actually be reserved for aliens,” she said, confident that was correct.

She pressed a hand to her chest as the spirit box she held kept on beeping. Abruptly, it cut out, leaving her breathing ragged, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Naturally, Micah was the one that recovered first, forever being the voice of reason while Joey’s imagination ran away with itself. 

Her jaw fell open as he addressed the room at large, calling Yankee Jim Robinson his nickname out loud. Swiftly, she backhanded his arm in warning before shaking her head with a pout, hoping that if the spirit of the centuries-old man was in the room, then he would understand that she was just as unhappy about Micah’s pet name as he was.

“It’s okay, Mr Yankee Jim,” she called out, still trembling a little. “I didn’t… you know… actually pee.”

It wasn’t Yankee Jim Robinson that she was worried about offending if she had soiled herself though. This wasn’t his house. Instead, she wondered: what would Mrs Whaley think? Would she burst through the doors in a ghostly rage, her famous green dress billowing behind her, ready to throw a teacup at Joey’s head? She shivered at the thought.

“We should head towards the front parlour,” she whispered loudly. As terrifying a prospect as it was to her, that room in particular was widely recognised as the most haunted bit of the entire Whaley home. It was where Yankee Jim Robinson had been executed before Mr Whaley had built the house from the ground up, so if there was going to be any sort of activity from YJR - gosh darn it, Micah! - then it would probably be there.

She beckoned Micah with her hand to follow her, double checking that the red recording light on the camera continued to flash. As they crept through the house, floorboards creaking underneath their weight, she couldn’t help but hold her breath as soon as they stepped into the parlour.

Once again, she lifted the spirit box. 

“Um…” She cleared her throat nervously. “If anyone in here answers to the name of Yankee Jim Robinson, can you please make yourself known?”

The ensuing silence was almost as scary as if there had been any response. Joey could practically feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she white-knuckled the spirit box.

“Thomas Whaley?” she called. Nothing.

Swapping an unsure look with Micah, guilt sparking in her when she realised that she might have kept him from the warmth of his bed for a dud episode, she tried one more time.

“Anna Whaley?” she tried, her voice weak.

Suddenly, there was a clattering noise, like something heavy hitting the floor and Joey thought that her heart was about to erupt out of her chest from the sheer surprise of it. She jumped, blood thundering in her ears as she reacted and did the first thing she could think of, which was grabbing Micah by the lapel of his jacket and pulling him closer to her so she could cling onto him. 

Even in the midst of her terror, she was careful not to dislodge the camera from his grip as she did everything she could to practically crawl inside of his jacket. She held onto his shirt, pressing his face into his neck, the soothing and familiar scent of his cologne helping to calm her nerves as she trembled against him.

“Holy shit!” she swore, only for a stammering voice to pipe up from behind.

“Oh my god guys, I’m so sorry!” Joey turned, still a little twisted up in the material of Micah’s jacket, to see Marty standing in the archway from the back parlour, looking sheepish and nervous as he threw his hands up in surrender.

“Marty…” Joey breathed, wilting against Micah and tipping her head back against his shoulder.

“I thought you were a ghost,” she said, a little unnecessarily.

“No. Just a white guy with anemia,” Marty joked feebly, bending down to pick up the folder he’d dropped. Joey let out a weak laugh as she looked at Micah, realising just how much she’d gotten entangled with her friend.

“Sorry, sorry,” she apologised, finally pulling away from him, her fingers reaching up to sort the collar of his shirt where she’d all but yanked it down past his collar bones. She caught a flash of muscle, swelling towards his pecs for a moment before she quickly diverted her gaze and looked away, back towards Marty.

“How’s things upstairs?” she asked quickly.

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

↳INSTAGRAM: @micahabiola uploaded a photo:

have we seen sinners 16 times? maybe so

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

↳INSTAGRAM: @micahabiola uploaded a photo:

things stuff lookin buff

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

Finger on the trigger, Micah held the camera up to about shoulder level, silently thanking whatever higher power was out there – be it God or Yankee Jim Robinson, he had no idea – for that he and Joey were of a similar height. If she were any taller than him these angles could get a little janky, and even during the years when their show was at its lowest budget that shit wouldn’t cut it. He followed his best friend and costar on tender foot, edging further into the darkened room as he scanned their surroundings, brow arched and ever the sceptic.  

Micah would never claim to be an unbeliever, but he liked to think he and Joey balanced each other nicely. She thought every creaky floorboard announced the presence of some sort of ghostly entity, while he believed their landlord was an asshole who owed them a world of repairs and a rent deduction on their apartment. Joey interpreted soft buzzing noises as a spirit making itself known, and Micah deliberated over if he’d left his phone on vibrate one room over. His job was to help bring the two of them back down to earth, to prove to their viewers that they weren’t just planting flashing lights and mysterious objects in an otherwise abandoned building, but that they too could make mistakes and get it wrong from time to time. 

“We come in peace,” Micah found himself muttering, a playful smirk on his face. 

He wasn’t entirely wrong – they did come in peace. Still, he knew that Joey had a method of how she liked to approach spirits, a code of conduct that she swore by to ensure she never disrespected the dead or made them feel mocked or belittled. But he couldn’t help himself. Jeff hated any sort of reference to their older format, and Micah knew he’d despite the idea of a headless voice sounding from somewhere behind the camera. He believed the camera-man's job was to never be seen or heard, to be a voiceless companion to Micah and Joey on their journey. And as it happened, Micah didn’t give a flying fuck what Jeff thought. 

Then, the box in Joey’s hand started rapidly beeping, the sound increasing with each new set of beeps as his best friend spun on the spot to face him, eyes wide with a look of both terror and excitement. Micah’s heart seemed to pound in his chest, his face breaking out into a wide grin. It could be a total fluke, some sort of trigger that Jeff had planned, but he liked to think they’d struck gold, that their good buddy Yankee Jim Robinson was genuinely trying to commune with them. 

“Oh, they’re gonna love that,” he muttered under his breath, unable to help himself. 

Their viewers loved any real candid moment between the two of them, even if it was something as simple and mortifying as Joey Claremont wetting herself on television. And they’d both fight to ensure Jeff kept the line in too. 

“Hey, YJR – pardon the nickname,” he cleared his throat, shooting Joey an apologetic smile. Glancing around, he ushered her forward, redirecting her as he turned on the spot, pointing the camera in a new direction. “You owe JC here a new pair of pants.” 

Joey smiled against the material of Micah’s jacket when he informed her that he’d backed up Marty. Not that she’d ever have any doubts about that. Micah’s loyalty was one of those unshakeable certainties of the world that she could always count on, but not just when it came to her. As much as she liked to be the focal point of her best friend’s attention at any given time, she knew he’d take care of their crew without any hesitation as well. Plus, she’d kind of gotten used to sharing him when he met Bradley and the two of them kickstarted their odd, one-of-a-kind bromance. 

Shamefully, Joey knew the names of pretty much all the women Micah had slept with, and she’d asked him on more than one occasion if Bradley was about to get added to the list. He’d told her no, but she wasn’t so sure.

As if his defense of Marty wasn’t enough proof of Micah’s good character, the way he suddenly pulled a tiny handheld out of his pocket certainly was. Joey’s face lit up, especially hearing the familiar age-old nickname he had for her fall from his lips.

“You’re literally the best person in the entire world,” she told him, dropping her voice to a whisper as she encouraged him to open up the handheld and press record. She herself was busy clutching onto the spirit box, holding it out in front of her and hoping that Yankee Jim Robinson would be willing to make himself known. If he did, Joey had no doubt that she would experience a freak out of absolutely epic proportions and probably have to fight the urge to run from the house screaming, but she so desperately wanted him to be there nevertheless.

“Micah, I’ve told you so many times, don’t call them Caspers, it’s rude,” she said, softly, sending an apologetic glance around the room and shaking her head in Micah’s direction as if to say get a load of this guy. You know, just to let the ghosts in the room know she was not in moral alignment with him when it came to that particular nickname.”They probably prefer ‘friends of Casper’, it’s way more politically correct.”

Her nonsensical rambling was quickly cut off by a low humming noise permeating the otherwise silent room and she felt her jaw drop. Exchanging a stricken look with Micah, she forced herself to straighten up, knowing that she had a job to do. Nodding in Micah’s direction to confirm that the handheld was recording, she faced the lens.

“You guys hear that?” she asked, eyes wide as they trailed around the darkness of the room.

“Is there anyone in this room that responds to the name of Yankee Jim Robinson?” she asked, trying to keep her voice calm and collected and, most importantly, confident. She would hate to make any old-timey ghost in here look down on her for not being a good public speaker.

She paused for a moment, staring at the spirit box and then proceeded to nearly drop it when it lit up and began emitting a series of rapid beeps.

Her mouth dropped open as she faced Micah with a silent scream. “I think I might’ve just peed a bit,” she confessed.

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

@micahabiola: yo this is so fucking gnarly lmao

↳INSTAGRAM: @ripleyluwho uploaded a photo:

Another day with Bradders in the chair! I’ve been trying a new recipe for fake blood lately and I think this one is my favourite to use yet. We tried our hand (no, literally!) at SFX again and even though I’m still not totally confident practicing that stuff on faces yet, I think I did a good job making his hand suitably gruesome.

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

↳INSTAGRAM: @micahabiola uploaded a photo:

joey stole my phone just so she could take pics of how sxc the back of my head is clearly

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

@micahabiola: @chessythrifts THANK YOU! #teamCHICAH

↳INSTAGRAM: @micahabiola uploaded a photo:

she fell 0.3 seconds after this was taken btw

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

@micahabiola: gonna tell my kids this is steve rogers and sharon carter

↳INSTAGRAM: @spideybrad uploaded a photo:

It’s giving we’re Marvel characters undercover. It’s giving espionage. It’s given a bomb has gone off in Grand Central station and we’ve been framed for it so we have to go on the run until we can prove our innocence by revealing the real mastermind behind the plan - it turns out to be none other than our mentor, probably played by Richard E Grant. We are understandably devastated by his betrayal. It’s giving we are about to be involved in a badass shoot-out subway scene where I tragically and heroically give my life for Sephy’s. In reality, she’s famous and I’m just the loser asking if we can go get tacos.

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

@micahabiola: @paranormaljoey idk but definitely not me?

↳INSTAGRAM: @micahabiola uploaded a photo:

she fell 0.3 seconds after this was taken btw

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

↳INSTAGRAM: @micahabiola uploaded a photo:

she fell 0.3 seconds after this was taken btw

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

@micahabiola: what comes first the micah or the egg

↳INSTAGRAM: @paranormaljoey uploaded a photo:

gonna ask him to be my egg 🥚 for easter 🐣!!!!! do you guys think he’ll say yes? 🤞

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

@micahabiola: playing split fiction with bradley is so fun anyway but the highlight was being a pig and joey repeatedly asking us to roll around in the mud

@micahabiola: story to follow? tasks to do? no let’s roll in the mud baybeeee

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

@micahabiola: happy womens day beautiful ladies!!!!!!

↳INSTAGRAM: @paranormaljoey uploaded a photo:

happy #InternationalWomensDay to my most favourite girls in the WORLD ❤️

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

@micahabiola: we should date

↳INSTAGRAM: @spideybrad uploaded a photo:

Thanks for the hat @moviesbymei

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

↳INSTAGRAM: @micahabiola uploaded a photo:

just dropping this to humbly remind everyone i fancy brad more than seph does

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

@micahabiola: @paranormaljoey i didn’t know we were doing hot shit like this yooooo?

↳INSTAGRAM: @micahabiola uploaded a photo:

bruhhhh?

[ghosthuntingwithmicah]

↳INSTAGRAM: @micahabiola uploaded a photo:

bruhhhh?