In spite of the open windows, the air is still, the neighbourhood quiet, the sounds of children playing on the streets long forgotten. It is the 20th of April 2020, and Aotearoa is on lockdown.
Nobody knows this better than I. Since the beginning of the nation’s Covid-induced quarantine, I have completely abandoned myself to civil obedience; I wash my hands thoroughly multiple times a day, I don an N-51 mask if I am forced to leave the house (essential errands only), and, of course, most importantly of all – I tune in to Ashley Bloomfield’s national health updates with almost religious ardour.
I am watching the man himself on television as we speak, his virile, concerned expression broadcast in high definition on my 50 inch screen. My eyes are fixed on his strong jaw, primed and ready to warn New Zealanders of the dangers of this global pandemic. His steely gaze seems to infect me like the virus he warns me against; his dirty blond hair is tousled, perhaps from the knowledge flowing through the brilliant mind beneath…or perhaps from something else entirely.
I hear a rustle from behind me as my sexy, sanitary little secret emerges from the hallway. A thrill travels down my spine at infectious speed as I listen to his footsteps shuffling ever closer, while simultaneously keeping my gaze fixed to the screen. That’s right – I am part of Ashley Bloomfield’s bubble, and we are about to play doctor like never before.
I turn slowly and there he is, a vision in hazmat. His feet are protected by blue plastic booties (single use), his handsome features hidden behind a state-of-the-art respiratory mask, but aside from these and a pair of nitrile gloves (size XL), there is nothing standing between my hungry eyes and the naked body of Aotearoa’s Director-General of Health.
“Miss [REDACTED]”, he murmurs in a soft yet commanding baritone, “in spite of our previous meetings, I still don’t think you quite understand the gravity of the coronavirus pandemic. Please, allow me to explain a few basic health and safety parameters to you again.”
The tingles in my spine begin to branch off, setting my whole body ablaze with lust. “Oh, doctor,” I reply meekly, “please, show me the way.”
Ashley steps forward, reducing the distance between us to well under the recommended two metres. “Miss [REDACTED],” he purrs, “do you think this is a suitable distance to prevent the spread of the novel coronavirus?”
“I – I don’t know,” I whisper, hoping this will lead to the conclusion I’ve been yearning for all afternoon.
My prayers are answered as Ashley swoops me into his arms, depositing me with surgical precision onto the sofa. “Oh, Miss [REDACTED],” he breathes, “I see you are still a few handy informational memes away from fully grasping just how important physical distancing is.”
With that, my medicinal man-beast arms himself with the proper prophylactic equipment (also size XL), and plunges into me like a deeply satisfying syringe. While the fear of coronavirus rages on outside, here, with Ashley, I know I am about to receive the only cure for what ails me.
Check out more art (G and M+ rated) on IG @Ashleybloomfans
For a while, there was a mystery as to who Ashley Bloomfield was, I kept hearing the name referenced and was like lol who’s this Ashley woman and if she’s the queen of the MoH why is she never on tv. Then I realised it was the guy talking at 1pm and became absolutely obsessed with him. We decided to do some research seemed like he was woke as we loved his manner and thought we’d make a fan account as a fun joke. Also my flat has set a goal to try to achieve fame of some sort on one social media platform. I was going to go for tik tok but ashleybloomfans was more fun. We quickly got the whole flat and a couple of friends in other bubbles to get in on the page. Originally we painted the fan art ourselves and pretended it had been submitted by like small children in rural towns but then to our surprise real people started sending stuff in and we ended up having a backlog of fan art. People were gagging to paint the big guy. That’s essentially what happened its been lots of fun and we’ve amassed a few followers much more than our original goal of around 10.
Jacinda is frankly overdone. Ashley is so unassuming, he’s almost handsome, he’s like a very generic looking middle aged man with a weirdly bland sexiness. He reminds people of who they want their dads to have been and who they want their husbands to be sometimes too, very Freudian really. He’s nice, he’s respectful, he’s calm, he’s humble and he’s doing his job well and he’s patient answering questions. Yeah I think it’s the humility competence combo that does it for me personally. There are also like a fuckload of middle-aged women who want to fuck him, this is become evident as we have run the Instagram. He’s a good bloke! wholesome kiwi masculinity! he’s great!
We will always really enjoy the nude, a lot of work went into it. We’ve loved the songs that have been written too; they’ve been awesome. Honestly the variety has really impressed us. We’ve had cross-stitch, pixel art, paintings, drawings all sorts of things. Its all been awesome. I’d like to see some poetry though.
Lockdown is going to be different for everyone. We are incredibly lucky to be students in non-essential work in a flat of close friends. For us lockdown has been doing lots of fun stupid things that you can’t do during normal times like fucking up your hair, doing a pub crawl through differently decorated rooms in your house, going on Omegle etc. We’ve been trying to maintain a routine, our bubble has been doing exercise every morning together, eating together, doing activities every night. It’s important to stay social, stay connected and pull in your social supports where possible I guess. These are not easy times at all. We are lucky to be able to make something fun out of it.
Up the essential workers we love you!