#f1 fem!driver!oc

[37sommz-archive]

✼. MOTHER, MAY I | 2019.

CH. 06. NOW PLAYING: stfu! by rina sawayama [fluff, lil angsty]. ✼.⠀summary: michaela and lewis have a chat, 1.5k. ✼.⠀view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✼.⠀NOVEMBER 02, 2019 — austin, usa

If the pounding in Michaela’s head told her anything, it was probably that Austin had been a dizzying show of form. Though she was slated to start sixth in Sunday’s race, Michaela found herself begging the racing gods for mercy. 

The Austin wind paired with the fantastic glimmer of shuttering cameras, had left her struggling to keep her happy smile plastered to her face. Those who noticed the absence of her familiar joyfulness were loud about their observations. She had been put on blast all weekend by reporters, drivers, and social media alike, her thrilling qualifying performance forgotten amidst the generous flow of speculation.

Dodging questions about her personal life—one of the more helpful recommendations Sebastian had gifted her during her time as a reserve—she quickly settled on repeating the same half-assed response every time, “I’m taking a page out of Kimi’s book.” They would laugh and move on, realizing they would be wasting precious airtime attempting to get much of anything out of the Australian driver.

The tiny bit of solace she finds against the wall her blonde waves rest against is stolen in a millisecond as she hears footsteps approaching her. They are gentle yet confident, the contrast perfectly matching the driver to whom they belong. Slowly releasing a sigh of mild grief before beginning to straighten her form, any conscious thoughts are pulled from her mind once she matches the footsteps to the driver. With his hair tucked underneath his Mercedes cap, braids carefully pulled into a signature ponytail, finding Lewis Hamilton smiling down at her practically shakes any aches from Michaela’s system.

“Easy,” he laughs, the sound as relaxed as it was worried. His eyebrows dip as he frowns at the state of the 19-year-old sat below him. Pulling a stray chair to sit beside her, he recovers his frown with a tight-lipped smile. Michaela pales in response as she suddenly finds herself shy of his attention. The two drivers had barely had any time to talk during the younger’s debut season. Though words of congratulations had been exchanged through press conferences, there had been little time for any personal chats. 

“Sorry, I’m a mess at the moment,” she rushes to explain her current condition. Waving a hand at the frantic cope, Lewis shifts his body to face Michaela head-on. 

“How has everything been for you? The team, the media, the fans?” His voice is a calming force settling over the air shared between them. It is then that Michaela takes notice, with self-admitted shock, of the clearness of his skin and the cleanliness of his parts. The famous stud adorning his left nostril seemed to catch the lights brilliantly in a way that only seemed to mock the headache they had given to her. 

Nodding slowly she responds with a practiced carefulness, “Not the easiest.” 

Lewis simply laughs at her answer. Throwing his head back as if she had told the grandest of jokes. His amusement is quickly explained with a loud, “Welcome to Formula One!” 

She chuckles at his reaction. Though it is measured and ends as soon as his does, her shoulders relax as the tension holding them up begins to ease. An air of calm falls between the two drivers as they settle into candid conversation.

“You’ve done pretty well though,” He hums as he nudges his chair ever so slightly closer to hers. Attempting to keep her cool, Michaela nearly misses the caveat of, “From what I’ve seen so far”, that he adds to the thought, a shrug added to emphasize his point of view. 

She sighs in response to the addition. The roll of her eyes, so natural with a practiced ease, draws another laugh out of Lewis. 

“I’m in an Alfa Romeo, it’d be pretty hard to make it worse than it already is.” 

The Mercedes driver moves a tattooed hand to cover his mouth in mild shock the Australian rookie could be so bold. His eyes widen with another bout of amusement, the deep chuckle he tries to suppress managing to escape against the brown of his skin. Her typically subdued nature in press conferences had surely misled him of her true personality. There in the seldom-used hallways she had managed to find in Austin, Lewis found a spark in her eyes typically hidden underneath the pink and white of her famous helmet. 

The older driver leans back to take a peak around the corner, muttering, “You never know who’s around these fuckin’ corners.” 

Clearing his throat, he moves to offer a bit of sympathy to the rookie. With eyes shifting again, this time to true poise, he levels his speech. “The first few seasons are always rough. But I think you’re one of the more capable drivers on the grid. No doubt you’ll be in a better car before long.” 

As Michaela flushes, shying away from the compliment, he attempts to wave off the show of humility. 

“I’m serious, anybody who says otherwise? Fuck ‘em.” His shoulders rise in a show of nonchalance. Hands gesturing outwards catch Michaela’s eye as they crinkle in amusement.

It is Michaela’s turn to laugh out loud. Though her amusement is more subdued to be shared between the two of them, the grace she extends to the great seated in front of her is tangible. Waves of gratitude roll off her being and surround the two of them in a blanket of understanding. 

“Can’t say that in these pressers yet,” She chuckles as her laughter subsides a few beats later. “They’d have me out on my arse by the morning.” 

Her eyes roll again, annoyance replacing the ocean of gratitude she had previously been submerged in. The shift catches Lewis’ attention as he leans back against his chair. His comfort is immediately obvious to the rookie whose cheeks redden to her embarrassment.

“Yeah, that clause in your contract? What’s that all about?” His eyebrows furrow as the slightest of wrinkles around the perimeter of his eyes crinkle just the same. His lips pull into a frown as he awaits Michaela’s response. 

“The shut up clause?” She huffs in reply. A graceful, manicured hand reaches up to massage at her temples. Her dark eyes close as she feels the weight of all the season’s pressure fall back onto her shoulders. 

“If that’s what we’re calling it.” Lewis hums. The concern remains on his face despite his gentle curiosity.

“It’s supposed to keep me ‘in line’.” Her fingers signal quotations around the phrase. “They could fine me for any statements they think unfairly scrutinize them or the FIA.” When Lewis cocks an eyebrow with a questioning tilt of his hair, Michaela offers a clarification: the ‘them’ in question being Alfa Romeo.

“Damn,” He mutters with a disapproving shake of his head. “Didn’t know they could even put that in a contract.” When Michaela doesn’t respond, her head finds its way back against the white linoleum-lined walls, and Lewis takes a breath. 

“Who negotiated that?” He inquires as his lips pull into a line.

An ironic chuckle escapes the younger driver who offers a simple response. “They wouldn’t sign me without it… had to… compromise.” The words are just barely strung together, loose and uncommitted as they hang in the air. 

“Shut up clause.” Lewis muses with a scoff. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip before he sits up in his chair. “How long’s the contract? Two years?” When Michaela only offers a nod in affirmation, Lewis’ arms cross as if communicating his disappointment through solidarity.

The silence continues to freeze the previous ease of conversation. As the rumble of the anxious press floods through the walls separating the two from the waiting craze outside of their presumed sanctuary, Lewis’ phone begins to ring. The contact name of his Press Officer appears in bolded white at the top of the screen. Both drivers release a sigh through their lips, moving to stand from their comfortable seats. Though Lewis’ fingers twitch in an effort to respond to the call, he takes a brief moment to encourage the rookie driver.

“Being the first is never easy. There’s people waiting to see you crash, literally.” The added warning draws a tight-lipped chuckle from the Australian. “Don’t give them the satisfaction of failure, yeah? Experience everything with a cool head, make them eat their words.” Michaela nods in understanding, eyes wide as she hangs on to every syllable of the British driver’s wise words.

With a final, “Keep pushing, kid. You’re the shit”, he departs from her side. His phone raises to his ear as he huffs out an excuse to the woman on the other end, a jog in his steps as he disappears down the hallway. Taking a deep breath, Michaela’s feet carry her to follow him.

✼.⠀taglist:⠀

@cha-hot @certifiedlesbianbaddie @nichmeddar

@d3kstar @thewannabewriter @hwalllllllelujah

@pacmacs-macs @thearchieves @doodlehunz

@lavisenri @evie-119 @bxdbxtxh

@seaweed-orchid @glitterquadricorn @99snse

@ginghampearlsnsweettea @alliwantisadonut @hiireadstuff

@emilyval1 @scarlettwidow3000 @anotherblackreader

@sv5beehives @mynameisangeloflife @tellybearryyyy

@melancholyy-hill @emmma323

[37sommz-archive]

✼. INVITATION | 2019.

CH. 05. NOW PLAYING: essence by wizkid [fluff, suggestive]. ✼.⠀summary: michaela makes a promise, 2.5k. ✼.⠀view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✼.⠀MARCH 14, 2019 — melbourne, australia

“P9, Michaela. That is points at home; well done.” 

Eugenio’s voice crackled into Michaela’s helmet. The celebratory shower of applause from the Alfa Romeo garage echoed alongside his voice, adding to the near imperceptibility of his speech. 

Though the sweat from the Melbourne heat simmered underneath Michaela’s baklava, she could only focus on the calming fact relayed to her by her engineer—points in her debut race. 

“Couldn’t have done it without you all. Cheers to the new season,” she responded with a sigh of satisfaction. It wasn’t long after that when she heard her father's voice leak into the radio. A gentle, “Amazing drive, Mickey. We’re eternally proud” only magnified the moment's euphoria. 

Though it was nowhere close to a podium, Michaela figured keeping up with Kimi Raikkonen just ahead in P8 was more than worth celebrating. Finally reaching the garage and kicking the engine off, Michaela hopped out of the car's cockpit with practiced grace. Fist bumps and energized embraces from the team personnel eager to congratulate the rookie driver.

Rushing to embrace her family before turning away to be weighed, her sister, Courtney, was the one to remind her that she had joined a small list of modern drivers who had scored on debut. A whisper of Hamilton and Prost and Villeneuve slipped through her lips and into the shy ears of her younger sister. 

Varied strengths of celebratory pats and friendly hugs kept Michaela in a daze as she floated from the Alfa Romeo garage to the weighing platform. Words of congratulatory relief left the lips of the remaining 17 drivers excluded from the parc ferme madness. 

As she pulled the straw of her energy drink to her mouth, a particularly firm clap on the back shook her from her daze. A familiar German accent filled her ears before she could fully regain control of her breathing. 

“You might have the biggest balls here. Solid drive, Mick.” Helmet in hand, Sebastian Vettel’s acknowledgment drew chuckles of appreciation from the nearby Perez and Hulkenberg. 

Rolling her eyes in response to the senior driver’s sense of humor, Michaela threw a friendly punch into his shoulder. Quickly engaging in light-hearted conversation with a few of the surrounding drivers, Michaela found herself back in that daze. As if totally disconnected from her body, it wasn’t until she was sitting on the floor of her parents’ living room that Michaela realized the magnitude of her achievement. 

The Sommers had taken it upon themselves to invite several drivers to a small cookout after the race. Though George, Lando, Alex, and Pierre, the usual guests, had made their way over, Pierre and Lando’s parents were in tow. Michaela was more than shocked to see Antonio Giovinazzi find his way among the group. Somebody—likely her father—must have extended his invitation to a plus one, Michaela figured. The familiar face of his friend Olivier stood out to her almost immediately. 

Between the chilly November night, they shared in Abu Dhabi and the race in Melbourne, the two had shared little more than polite half acknowledgments. Michaela never got around to calling him back. Not that she planned on it or even truly believed he’d give her the time of day. It must have been that same sense of self-sabotage that Pierre had once mused would “obliterate any potential for romance.” She had called him a dick at the time, remembering the long eye roll she responded with at the time. Sitting there on the floor with her head leaned against her mother’s legs, her hands pulling Michaela’s hair into two neat Dutch braids, she couldn’t help but realize he was right. As he often was, frustratingly. 

It was Pierre’s mother’s words that shook her out of her thoughts. “Have you met Antonio’s friend? The French one?” The question was innocent, but Michaela couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that the older woman knew more about him than she let on.

“Briefly,” she decided would suffice to satiate Pascale’s curiosity. Sitting to his mother’s left, Pierre seemed to perk up at the mention of Olivier. Leaning over to mention something to his mother in French, Michaela gritted her teeth as she strained to catch what the Frenchman could be saying. 

“English, Pierre,” she almost begged, embarrassment written all over her face. 

Her mother and sister sensed the discomfort on the youngest Sommers’ face. Courtney, jumping up to sit on the other side of Pierre, tapped him on the shoulder. Reciprocating her energy, Pierre whispered into her ear as well. A delighted laugh left the lips of the Australian two years his senior. 

Courtney let out a more boisterous laugh in response to her younger sister’s irritation. Her amusement spurred on additional laughter from Pascale and Pierre, who were both keen on the secret. Catching her breath, Courtney couldn’t shake the smile adorning her glossed lips, the very same brand Michaela used for hers, at the newly revealed information.

“You know him?” Courtney almost exclaimed from her seat directly across from her sister. Rolling her eyes once she recognized the hidden implications of Courtney’s question, Michaela sighed against Miriam’s legs. 

“Yeah, he used to drive F3,” she muttered. Miriam began to chuckle herself, knowing her daughter’s self-imposed avoidance of romantic interaction. “Not with me, though.” The words are tacked on quietly, parroting information she learned from Antonio—Alfa Romeo’s reserve driver.

“Where did you even meet him?” Miriam questioned calmly, trying—more than could be said about the giggling pair of 20-somethings—not to set off the youngest child.

“In Abu Dhabi,” was muttering one more by the embarrassed Australian. “He was at the club I went to with Alex.” Finally catching on to the unspoken, Miriam’s words faltered in her throat until she caught Pascale’s eyes and fell into a fit of laughter herself. A short “Oh!” left her lips between her amusement, triggering a teasing snicker from Pierre.

“Did you text him back?” He spoke up from his side of the room. A glint in his eyes not unfamiliar to Michaela made her skeptical of his intentions in posing the question.

“No…” she drawled out slowly, eyes squinting at the older driver. A sudden gasp from Pascale broke their staring contest, and she excitedly spoke with a clap of her hands.

“Why not? He’s so sweet, and he’s French!” Her eyes widened cartoonishly. The blues become brighter still as she symbolically adopts a schoolgirl’s interest in Michaela’s love life.

Miriam’s amused chuckle at the added “qualification” only added to the heat Michaela couldn’t shake from her face. The embarrassment seemed to radiate off of her very being, only serving to make her increasingly wary of drawing attention from the other side of the room. 

When her mother laughed, her father noticed. It was one of the criteria a younger Courtney had added to her blue and purple ‘Cute Things Daddy Does for Mummy’ list, the same one that still hung in her childhood room. Michaela remembers the differences in their rooms, even in their childhood years. Courtney, the romantic, decorated her room head to toe with posters from her favorite movies, while Michaela, the anti-romantic, hoarded posters of her favorite circuits.

“I don’t do relationships,” Michaela spoke under her breath. Her hands found their way to her warm cheeks, wishing them to cool down before turning her attention away from the group, catching sight of her father seated with a beer in his hand, speaking animatedly—by some cruel coincidence—with Olivier.

“It’s lonely at the top,” Miriam hummed, reaching for her glass of wine. As Michaela exhaled deeply in response, Pascale echoed the statement hanging in the air. “If you’re worried about a man understanding your commitment to your career, don’t waste your time. They won’t.”

Hums of appreciation spiral through the air from the three other women in the small circle. Michaela catches Pierre’s eyes, suppressing a giggle as it rips through her. A bratty scowl rested upon his face at his mother’s words, his mind scrambling to find the right words to defend himself in an effort to prove he was exempt from her quip. 

Before he could get the words out, his mother added to her statement. A carefree, “Just find a polite one and keep him around for a good lay” leaves Pascale’s lips before the rest of them can even begin to process the thought. It is Miriam who chokes on her wine first, reaching over the center table to grasp the Frenchwoman’s hand in her own. The two parents giggle together over the idea as if a congratulations. 

Their three children look on with uncomfortable sighs, Michaela herself seemingly the most painful. Her lips curl up into a tense grimace before a deeper set of voices snaps her out of her discomfort. A low French accent hits her ears first before the others—Italian and Australian—can strike her as familiar. Her heart quickens once she lays eyes on the owner of the husky voice, his hazel eyes having yearned for hers from across the room over the last several hours. 

Ignoring Pierre's stray whistle coinciding with his mother's shushes, Michaela shakes herself from her lavender cloud. A quirk of his head towards the kitchen is all it takes to rouse her from her place on the floor. She could not bring herself to care if she were aware of the eyes tracking their movements. The husk of his scent and the drawl in his voice almost hypnotized her from the beginning.

Only vaguely aware of the sound that fails to emit from the shocked few now seated in the living room, Michaela finds comfort leaning into the countertop behind her. Olivier’s near-golden eyes sweep the length of her body, leaving her burning to feel his touch on her. It is a clear of his throat that only accelerates her misery, pulling in a breath as his hand sweeps through his dark curls. 

“So?” is what Olivier opens with. A twitch in her features draws a small chuckle out of him. “If I was that bad, you should have just told me then.” When Michaela can only furrow her eyebrows in confusion, he laughs once more. His hand lifts his beer to his lips, taking a gulp as if drawing strength from the alcohol. 

“You never called,” he almost whispers as if embarrassed. The odd tone strikes Michaela, who straightens up in anticipation of his following words. “You wanted me to call?” Her voice is just as soft as his, and her eyes struggle to look anywhere but into his. 

He waves off the question with an immediate scoff, breaking eye contact for just a moment as he carefully places his chilled beer on the counter behind him. Taking a confident step forward, a hand reaches out to her before hesitating and falling back to his side. 

Deciding to cross them, he answers her decisively, “Of course, I wanted the pretty girl to call.” It’s smooth as it rolls off his tongue, twirling with the French accent that dances through the sentence. This time, it was Michaela’s turn to break eye contact, the ‘pretty girl’ being the last thing she heard before falling back into her desperate yearning.

“Plus, I’m quite a fan of yours.” 

The sentence draws a giggle out of an embarrassed Michaela. The Australian’s heart fluttered beneath her blushing skin, leaving Olivier with practical stars in his eyes as he watched her fluster. Anyone else would find the behavior distinctly out of character for the ultra-competitive driver. Her usual gentle cockiness was replaced with an unfamiliar coyness that nearly left her paralyzed to his charms. 

Wordlessly, Michaela finds a surge of courage, tossing her blonde locks over her shoulder before taking a step forward to shorten the gap floating between the two of them. The move brings a falter to her steps as she takes in a whiff of his cologne. Expensive-smelling is what she decided the scent was. As Michaela places her out in wait, Olivier’s features twist with confusion. 

Her simple request, "Hand me your phone, I'll put my number in," shocks him immensely. 

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken promise. A scoff leaves his lips, a playful sound that betrays the spark of curiosity in his eyes. In one fluid motion, his honey-toned hand reaches into his pocket, releasing his phone from its confines and placing it in her waiting hands. Her short, manicured fingers wrap around the device, the touch sending a jolt of anticipation through him.

With an ease that hints at a confidence typically seen in her Sauber racesuits, Michaela's thumbs dance across the screen, her name and number slowly appearing on his contacts list. She adds the details with a quickness, a desire to commit to the action before her mind can intervene. 

"Okay?" 

The question is a challenge, her voice laced with a vulnerability that dares him to reject her. Her lips quirk upwards, a gentle smile that contrasts with the doe eyes locked on his, pleading for approval.

"Perfect." 

The affirmation falls from the Frenchman's lips, the single word a decisive praise that sparks a giggle from Michaela. A uncharacteristically delicate hand rises to cover the lower half of her face, as if willing herself to hide her reaction. The sound is melodic, a sweet note that hangs in the air between them.

The room around them fades into the background, the hum of conversation and clinking glasses receding until all that remains is the crackle of tension between their bodies. It is Olivier who bridges the nearly nonexistent gap, his movements an act of casual seduction. A hand snakes down to rest on the curve of her lower back, the touch sending a shiver down her spine. His fingers draw loose circles into the material of her shirt, the caress featherlight yet full of intent.

As if drawn by an unseen force, Michaela's hands find their way up the length of his firm torso, coming to rest on the broad expanse of his shoulders. The contact burns unexpectedly, the heat of his skin seeping into hers. The air between them thickens, heavy with the weight of unspoken promises. His breath intermingles with hers, a mix of anticipation and desire. 

"Promise you'll answer?" 

The question is a whispered desperation, a plea for reassurance.

Words become useless as her lips find his, the contact a jolt of electricity that sears through them. The 'yes' is unspoken, conveyed in the press of her mouth and in the sweep of her tongue. She pulls away before he can fully process the sensation, leaving him longing, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic motion. A soft "I promise" is her parting gift, the honeyed words hanging in the air like a promise of more to come.

With a grace that contradicts the turmoil bubbling inside her, Michaela leaves the kitchen, her steps a slow withdrawal back into the familiar safety of the living room. He remains still, his phone still clutched in his hand, her number and name staring back at him. A challenge and invitation consuming him totally.

✼.⠀taglist:⠀

@cha-hot @certifiedlesbianbaddie @nichmeddar

@d3kstar @thewannabewriter @hwalllllllelujah

@pacmacs-macs @thearchieves @doodlehunz

@lavisenri @evie-119 @bxdbxtxh

@seaweed-orchid @glitterquadricorn @99snse

@ginghampearlsnsweettea @alliwantisadonut @hiireadstuff

@emilyval1 @scarlettwidow3000 @anotherblackreader

@sv5beehives @mynameisangeloflife @tellybearryyyy

@melancholyy-hill

[37sommz-archive]

CH. 04. NOW PLAYING: lunch by billie eilish [fluff]. ✼.⠀summary: michaela draws the attention of dts, 1.5k. ✼.⠀view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✼.⠀MARCH 14, 2019 — melbourne, australia

“Formula One returns this weekend with the season opener in Australia. The return of Honda to the pinnacle of motorsports finds itself overshadowed by the racing debut of a rookie.”

-

“Michaela Sommers will take on a historic role in today’s race. The Australian will become the first woman since Lella Lombardi to be entered in and race for points.”

-

The coverage of the rookie’s historic weekend is set over images of the season’s twenty drivers moving through the Melbourne crowds. Nineteen pairs of feet adorned in their teams’ respective colors exit the small cruise ship, excitement for the new season bringing a lightness to their steps. Daniel Ricciardo, the senior Australian on the grid, stops to sign a fan’s yellow Renault hat. His trademark smile falters for a brief moment as he turns to look behind him.

His bright expression melts into one of concern as he catches sight of the Toro Rosso rookie, Alex Albon, but not his shorter friend. In two long strides, the Renault driver is at the Thai driver’s side. Both among the taller drivers, their heads peek out beyond the orange cap of the Mclaren rookie, Lando Norris, just ahead of them. Engrossed in taking a photo with a young fan, Alex is soon pulled out of his motions by the senior driver. With a tattooed hand on his shoulder, the camera crew strains to capture the shot. The microphones pinned to the lapels of their team polos pick up a few low words. 

“Where’s Michaela? She was just behind me off the boat.” 

The Australian’s words carry a noticeable twang to them. His accent bleeds with concern before it is starkly contrasted by the posher, lilted British accent of the Toro Rosso driver. His head whips to check the exit ramp still attached to the small cruise they had all taken across the channel. His shoulders rise as if attempting to kiss his ear lobes.

“They haven’t removed the ramp. She must be on the boat still?”

As quickly as he delivered the response to the Australian’s question was the same quickness it took for his attention to be captured once more by another fan. An older boy this time who excitedly began to rattle off how he had been robbed by an untimely Safety Car at a race he finished just outside podium the previous Formula Two season. 

Snickering to himself, the Renault-donned Australian lifts his cap to run a tanned hand through his curly brown hair. He releases a breath in reaction to both the missing rookie and the heat bubbling through the force of the crowd.

The episode cuts away from the occupied drivers to another scene. The cameraman focuses on a restroom door aboard the aforementioned boat, silence rings through the scene before the a feminine humming pulls the action back together. A click of the door echoes through the empty hall before a head of platinum blonde hair, the roots kept a darker tone, peeks out behind the white door. The owner’s eyes finally make contact with the cameraman, a mischievous smile adorns the young woman’s warm features. 

Pushing the door open, she exhales softly with a throw of her intentionally waved platinum hair over her shoulder. The red accents of her black Alfa Romeo polo stand out against her bleached hair and browned skin. 

Her smile never falters as she leads the cameraman away from the hallway to the ramp awaiting her exit. 

“Had to touch up my makeup.” She explains her absence casually before allowing herself a polite nod to the crew left on the small boat. 

“The humidity’s already done a number on my lashes. Got them all clumpy and shit.” She mutters the swear under her breath as if hoping the microphone would be unable to pick it up. 

“George is covering for me,” she says with a spark of comfortability, adding an muttered caveat with, “I hope.” Her steps come to a halt in front of a mirror, her hands move to arrange her hair before smoothly adjusting her polo and flashing a smile to check her teeth.The ease she exhibits in front of the camera is noted to be a stark contrast to the other more reserved personalities among the grid. 

It is another three steps before she is descending down the ramp. A paler hand reaches out to land upon the shoulder of the Alfa Romeo. The hand belonging to the driver’s PR manager brushes away at a stray wave covering up the team logo. With a smile, the driver hands over a tube of mascara, silently thanking her before making her final exit onto the pavement where the fans lie in anxious await.

Murmurs in the crowd turn to roars as the home-turf rookie makes her final descent. Her short manicured nails catch their sights as she waves to their joyous cheers. The previewed smile first shown to the cameraman trailing behind her grows impossibly brighter before a kiss is blown to the crowd before her.

Their roars begin to fade as the scene switches once more. The same driver depicted in the previous moments returns to the screen. Her smile absent from her face as she carefully adjusts her uniform before moving to place an Alfa Romeo cap upon her platinum blonde locks.

“Whenever you’re ready,” the producer’s voice rang out from behind the camera. As if flipping an ‘on’ switch, her lips pull into the familiar bright smile.

“Okay. My name is Michaela Sommers and I am a rookie driver for Alfa Romeo Racing.” Her faintly manicured hand raises with a thumbs up directed towards the producer. 

Her eyes widen in question releasing a gentle, “Was that it?”, in confirmation she had successfully met their requirements. “Tell us your name and who you race for,” had been their previous instruction. After a glance to the sound engineer, the producer mirrors her thumbs up.

“Michaela Sommers is definitely going to be one of the more scrutinized drivers this year.” Will Buxton takes over the scene as it cuts to his thoughts. “As the most recent Formula Two champion, she’s got everything to prove and everything to lose.”

His face is replaced by a compilation of Michaela’s wheel to wheel racing in the previous season’s championship. Her iconic red Prema Racing car twists and turns in waltzes against the cars of George Russell, Lando Norris, and Alex Albon; the other promoted drivers from her championship season.

“She had a fantastic Formula Two season. Complete dominance from the very first turn and she never let her foot off the gas.”

Another montage takes over the screen, this time showcasing her shattering eleven wins across feature and sprint races. As the montage plays out, the Australian lifts trophies above her head with the widest of smiles on her face. The drivers poised on either side of her change with every celebration but she remains upon the top step. Ending with a shot of a spray of champagne dousing her in sweet alcohol, the scene shifts back to Will Buxton.

“She’s a damn good driver. One of the best talents we’ve seen in some time.” His voice continues to speak as the view of her car maneuvering around the most difficult tracks in the world overtakes the view of his face. 

“She’s technically sound.” The wheels of her car scrape onto the track, leaving a mark as if signifying her presence that day.

“Level-headed.” Her voice emerges with a crackle as she narrowly misses a catastrophic crash with a more reckless driver. A calm, sing-songy, “Down boy, too close.” Echoes as Will’s voice comes to replace her’s once more.

“With the latest breaking you’ll ever see,” he completes his thoughts with a laugh. True to his words, the next few scenes are another compilation of her overtaking into and out of turns. Her car pointed in an almost perfect position with each overlaying video.

“The expectations couldn’t be higher for her. She’s got the talent and the confidence to take her career into the stratosphere. But there’s an unprecedented amount of pressure being placed on her shoulders.” His expression turns solemn at the release of his last statement.

As he begins to explain the thought, the subject of his speech comes into view once again. She nods as he hears the producer’s question. Buxton’s voice continues to speak over the silence of her clip, “Every race, every moment of her time is going to be examined under a microscope and used as a thesis on female drivers. It’s almost unfair. Almost.”

His voice cuts away as Michaela waits in anticipation of answering the producer’s question. 

“Do you think you’ll be given a fair chance at succeeding in Formula One?” The producer’s question is met with silence at first. As she chooses her words carefully, Michaela’s name appears on the screen in bold white letters. Tilting her head to the side, her eyes exude a level of seriousness previously unseen to the audience. All it takes is another beat before the background music quiets and Michaela decides upon the right answer.

“I don’t think I care if they do. I’ll find a way to win regardless. Even if it’s out of spite.”

✼.⠀taglist:⠀

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@melancholyy-hill

[37sommz-archive]

✼. THRU SPACE 'N TIME | MOTORSPORT.

NOW PLAYING: triple header recap [ig, twt]. ✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request. ✼. note:⠀lewis win!!

✹.⠀formula 1 just posted .ᐟ⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, and 1,927,283 others

@ f1⠀⠀⸻⠀⠀no place like home! lewis hamilton takes his ninth win at silversotne, breaking the record for the most wins at a single circuit!

view all 7,383 comments

username1 crying as we speak, such a good race!

username2 love how happy michaela was for him, true sportsmanship at its finest.

username3 very true! such a class act from sommers 👏

username4 delulus for lewlew manifested this 🙏

misomms yabadaboo!! 👑

georgerussell63 indeed 👏👏👏 username5 nurse, they're out again

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✹.⠀michaela sommers just posted .ᐟ⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

liked by danielriccardo, travis_sommers, and 827,801 others

@ misomms⠀⠀⸻⠀⠀incredible end to this triple header run. massive thanks to the team for sticking it through with me. from a disappointing fall from pole in austria to podium in silverstone, i couldn't dream of a more dramatic three weeks. lovely to spend it with you all. making huge gains and a whole lot of progress! ~ see you all in hungary.

view all 7,637 comments

astonmartinf1 wonderful effort mickey, the team thanks you too 💚

alexandrasaintmleux can we hear some commotion for the dress?!

cocosommers whooo 😍😍😍 misomms you have the best taste >>>> 🥰 francisca.cgomes i think i speak for the people when i say more dresses in the paddock!! <3333

username5 michaela slowly collecting the wags one by one

username6 daniel started making moves on her sister and she said ENOUGH

travis_sommers p8 - p5 - p3, amazing as always mickey 🤘

guidomarottaofficial 🤙👍 username7 JUST KISS ALREADY PLS THE TENSION username8 cryingggg girl what 😭

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@melancholyy-hill

[37sommz-archive]

could her boyfriend be Oscar ?? I’m having a huge Oscar phase right now

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀AYANA RESPONDS⠀⠀. . .

i did consider another driver as her love interest, however, i really want to write about her platonic relationships with men since i think that's gonna be important to her character arc. her bf is an athlete though! likely a footballer but I'm not totally sure yet. (tldr; oscar is terrified of michaela)

✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

[37sommz-archive]

*whispers to you* make her boyfriend fernando alonso please 😭

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀AYANA RESPONDS⠀⠀. . .

*whispers back* after the jenson heartbreak??? alonso's like her weird older coworker bestie lmao

✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

[37sommz-archive]

does michaela's story have a love interest? and if so who will it be?

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀AYANA RESPONDS⠀⠀. . .

as of right now, i have three different love interests I'm planning on writing: two exes and a current bf. but i haven't decided who the current bf is yet! :)

✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

[37sommz-archive]

✼. THRU SPACE 'N TIME | EXORDIUM.

NOW PLAYING: michaela sommers signs with alfa romeo. ✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✼. OCTOBER 12, 2018 — Michaela Sommers has secured a one-year contract at Alfa Romeo that will see her make her Formula One debut during the 2019 season.

The 18-year-old Australian is currently racing in the Formula Two Championship and is set to be the presumed champion, a title secured after the Grand Prix in Sochi. Sommers' signing comes with a piece of historical significance. As a signed driver, guaranteed a drive in F1, she would be the first woman to compete in a Grand Prix in the 21st century, only the second after Lella Lombardi.

Despite a slew of negative press surrounding a particularly tense response to a journalist's "misogynistic" question at the beginning of the season, Sommers has turned out a stunning season for Prema Racing. Having led the Drivers' Championship since the Austrian Grand Prix in July, many have questioned why the signing has come so late considering the Australian's dominance. In a short message posted to her Twitter in August, Sommers called for fans to cease speculation as she was "carefully considering all options that best align with [her] goals and priorities".

"There is no question Michaela will secure an F1 seat for the 2019 season," said Red Bull Racing team principal Christian Horner during a press conference in Spa after the driver secured another double win. The Brit continued, "The real question is the personalities at play. She's got a lion of a manager behind her, and some opinions of her own. So, she will drive, but where and how long? That remains to be seen."

The principal's comments were brushed off by Sommers who joked, "We still listen to Christian Horner?" in the media pen at Monza the following weekend. The response drew amused chuckles from George Russell and Alex Albon - both of whom have yet to secure F1 seats for 2019 - as well as members of the media.

Newly appointed Alfa Romeo Racing team boss, Fred Vasseur, is more than pleased with the signing stating, "It is always good to add a new driver to the lineup. Mickey is so eager to learn and we are positive she will produce good results with the senior guidance of Raikonnen - who she has worked with previously as a Ferrari Reserve."

While many have taken to social media to voice their support for the signing, others have questioned the timing of the historic moment. Feminist commentators have even stated that the FIA and Alfa Romeo officials should be "ashamed" of the amount of time it took to sign another woman to an F1 seat. Another point of controversy lies in an alleged clause of Sommers' contract in which the Australian is prohibited from making any "political statements that may cause agitation amongst patrons of the sport".

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀COMMENTS.

anonymous commenter: girl on the grid, we won!!!

anonymous commenter: the lengths this sport will go to in order to appease the woke leftist feminists never fails to disappoint me. shame on the fia and alfa romeo for succumbing to the pressure.

anonymous reply: mate what? she's leading the f2 championship with one race left and it's not close lmfao

anonymous commenter: proud of her for taking the high road on that horner comment. next time i need them in the boxing ring though. peace and love

anonymous commenter: foaming at the mouth to know what j*s verstappen thinks about this

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[37sommz-archive]

What does Michaela do after race wins?

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀AYANA RESPONDS⠀⠀. . .

she's not seen out at clubs as often as others are but race wins are always special exceptions to her. it's practically the only time she's seen in heels and the occasional mini dress. fans look forward to seeing her let loose a bit through sporadic ig stories/tiktoks that end up getting deleted the next morning.

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[37sommz-archive]

✼. THRU SPACE 'N TIME | MAPLE-SCENTED.

NOW PLAYING: canadian gp recap [ig, twt]. ✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request. ✼. note:⠀just don't look too close at the edits lmao. my first smau, pls be nice <3

✹.⠀formula 1 just posted .ᐟ⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

liked by astonmartinf1, misomms, and 658,927 others

@ f1⠀⠀⸻⠀⠀michaela sommers seals the win in an electrifying canadian grand prix! michaela scores her 8th victory in f1, with max verstappen and lando norris completing the podium 👏

view all 5,890 comments

username1 P1 BABYYYY IT'S OUR YEAR

username2 smells like contract negotiationsss

username3 lewis + fernando interrupting her interviews to scream about her winning 🥹

username4 STOP where username5 post race lewis practically throwing her in the air, alonso literally screaming into the mic username6 i love my family 🥰

⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

✹.⠀michaela sommers just posted .ᐟ⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

liked by cocosommers, astonmartinf1, and 830,927 others

@ misomms⠀⠀⸻⠀⠀first win in canada! wins always feel good but this one's extra maple-scented 🥞. thank you montreal for all the kindness and thank you to the entire team for keeping your cool ~ see you all in barcelona.

view all 8,374 comments

astonmartinf1 pressure pressure pressure, amazing job! 🥞

miriamsandile always proud darling, fantastic perseverance mimi

username7 can i pls marry ur daughter username8 real asf

danielricciardo 🥞🥞🥞

username9 i'm begging aston martin to let her do the food stand segment for every race weekend

username10 they need to make this a tradition asap username11 my delusional ass really thinks it's good luck atp username12 RIGHT she did it for melbourne and montreal and won both races...

liked by misomms & astonmartinf1

username13 the outfit flex... lewis hamilton when i catch you!!!!

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✼. taglist:⠀

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@emilyval1

[37sommz-archive]

✼. VICTORIOUS | 2018.

CH. 03. NOW PLAYING: tio by zayn [fluff, suggestive]. ✼.⠀summary: michaela keeps winning, 2.2k. ✼.⠀view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✼.⠀JULY 01, 2018 — spielberg, austria

“Though it is dry here in Austria, it seems as if the Sommer Rain will never let up.”

-

“She won in Baku, in Barcelona, and in France. Now, here in Austria, across the finish line, it’s Michaela Sommers who secures her fourth win this season.”

-

“They called for her to answer to the legend of Lella ‘76, and she has responded in kind. Michaela Sommers extends her lead in the Formula 2 Championship with double wins in both races here this weekend.”

-

“The current placements, as they stand, are Sommers in first, Russell in second, and Norris in third.”

-

“Mickey!” The trance Michaela found herself in was quickly broken by the sound of her nickname pouring from the left of her. 

“They’re all out for the formation lap… headphones?” 

Shaking herself from her staring at the track, her hands fell to the red headphones thrust out to her by a Ferrari engineer—one whom she couldn’t quite remember the name of—and lifted them to cover her ears. Her feet bringing her closer to the large monitors adorning the garage fell to a stop as the crackle of Sebastian Vettel’s voice echoed in her ears. As he cleared the radio check, her arms crossed over her chest; the yellow of the Ferrari logo contrasting with the black of her team jacket. 

Her duties to the team as a reserve driver demanded every bit of her attention the minute she stepped out of her red Prema car, her mind immediately shifting to the red Ferrari cars of Vettel and Raikkonen as they took their second-row places. Eager to learn from the two veteran drivers, Michaela had found herself tagging along to every meeting possible. She leaned in closer when they complained about the back tires or the steering and her eyes tracked their wings as they drew in and out of the breadth of Hamilton and Verstappen. Her focus on the twists and turns of the Austrian Grand Prix only relieved itself once she saw Kimi and Sebastian pass the checkered flag—second and third, respectively. 

As they always did at the end of the race, her hands shook from the concentrated energy rushing through her body. One of the engineers—she knew his name, he was much friendlier than most of his coworkers—nudged her shoulder to tease her about the tremble. 

“You shake as if you had raced yourself.” His eyes sparkled in amusement as he spoke to her—they always did, as Kimi had once casually pointed out to her. 

“It’s all the anticipation,” She easily responded. “I wish I was the one driving.” 

He chose not to respond this time, his cheeks taking on a blush that deterred his speaking. 

In the few months she had spent in and around the Ferrari garage Kimi had taken to pointing out every person he perceived to have any romantic inclination towards the Australian. She would roll her eyes, mutter something about types, and hope he would let it go. If he noticed her discomfort he never commented on it, simply shifting the topic to one about engines or advice for her next race. 

Sebastian was much different. Taking a liking for teasing the Australian every chance he got, Michaela had previously likened him to a friend’s older brother. Effortlessly relaxed with seemingly nothing else to do but find the humor in every situation presented to him. Blue eyes would meet her brown ones from across the room, corners crinkling in mischief before she could fully process the situation before her. 

In those few months that the three of them had shared gentle conversation, Sebastian had regularly urged Michaela to take in every moment for what it was. To relax in the company of others who understood her anticipation to hurtle down a gravel track at 200 miles per hour. 

Kimi would rest an icy hand on her shoulder, squeezing once then twice in a signal. He would lean over to whisper, “Your shoulders are too high”, before retreating to whatever shadow he had occupied in the distance. 

She knew they meant well; both champions in their own right and well aware of her own ambitions to hoist the winner’s cup over her head. But Michaela has never been relaxed. 

She doesn’t think she ever will.

✼.⠀JULY 07, 2018 — silverstone, england

The champagne underneath Michaela’s shoes squeaked as it stuck to the linoleum beneath her. Wincing at the sound, her hands steadied themselves on the pristine corner leading to the Prema quarters. Roaring cheers of “Brava!” and “Complimenti!” continued to ring in her ears as the hall grew quieter, drifting away from the continued celebrations of the scarlet team. Her head was swimming in victory and her mouth was cotton-balled from the neverending Italian phrases of gratitude and appreciation. 

Finally reaching the changeroom, her race suit pulled together at her waist fell to the floor with the softest of thuds. Incapable of taking anything slowly, Michaela’s hands rushed to rid herself of the champagne-soaked fireproofs. Swapping the red of the Prema suit for the red of her Ferrari polo and her favorite blue jeans, she exited the stall with a gentle sigh. Passing her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off her tanned face. Catching a glimpse of the annoying mismatch in shades from one side of her shoulder to the other, those eager hands brushed through the controlled chaos of her honey-blonde bleached hair. 

Rushing back down the hall to Ferrari’s garage, her eyes spotted the lights of a camera crew standing in between herself and the entrance. 

Shit.

The gentlest of forced smiles fastened to the corners of her dry lips as she attempted to sneak past. Her hopes to evade the crew without detection were made futile as soon as the producer standing in front of the host made direct eye contact with her. The smile grew wider—her discomfort pure and shining—as her brown eyes begged the producer’s equally dark ones for mercy.

Before she could open her mouth to rattle off some bullshit excuse that only another driver would be able to understand, the producer—Aaron, she remembered his name—clapped his hands together, startling her before a groan slipped from her lips. Locked in a silent argument, Aaron was the first to break the silence.

“Michaela,” Eyes peering into hers as if in a warning. “You owe me this.”

Feigning innocence she whispered lowly, “I’ve got no idea what you mean, Aaron.”

His prim English accent was firm with sincerity as he took a moment to remind her with a tired, “France?” Receiving another sigh from the Australian girl, Aaron nodded as if emitting an obviously from his pursed lips. Pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, he called over the host—the identity of whom was still unknown to Michaela. 

“Michaela, you’ll be having a quick chat with Jenson. He’s just joined the Sky team for this season,” Stopping himself to clap a hand onto the blonde Brit’s shoulder and to issue a warning glance towards the starry-eyed Aussie, he continues. “Be your normal bright self, put him at ease, it’s his first day.” 

The emphasis on ‘normal’ is not lost on Jenson who chuckles at the warning. At a loss for words, Michaela pulls in a bated breath, eyes transfixed on the 2009 World Champion. 

“Go easy on me?” 

Blue eyes sparkle as they finally meet her brown ones. All words seem to fail her, that familiar rush of eagerness subsides as she takes him in. 

Of all the things to notice about the former driver—the high peak of the bridge of his nose, the sharp lines of his hair, or the wolfish tilt of his lips—the feature Michaela can’t seem to pull her attention from is the spray of sun-tanned freckles laid across his cheeks. The freckles—and the unadorned, noticeably pale band of his left ring finger—are sure to haunt her as she finally finds the trust in herself to respond to the plea of grace. 

“For you? How could I be anything but easy?” 

If she was unaware of how desperate the words sounded as they fell off her two-toned lips, Aaron made sure to point it out to her. A clear of his throat covering the chuckle released from the back of his throat made sure to cut the present tension between the two drivers.

“Pick your good side and get it over with,” His words are choppy as he motions for the cameramen to take their places, “Please?” 

The plea, whiny with exasperation is finally the thing to sever Jenson’s attention from the pink tinge hiding underneath the roundness of Michaela’s cheeks. With a quirk of his head and the offer of a red Sky Sports microphone, Michaela’s hands are still as her heart beats with an anticipation foreign to her own body. 

✼.⠀NOVEMBER 25, 2018 — abu dhabi, united arab emirates

The last round of the Formula 2 Championship had passed by in a blur. The strobe lights catching onto the obnoxious trophy—with her name on it—seated in the middle of the table only added to the massive headache clearing any and every thought in her mind. Unsure of George’s whereabouts, Michaela downed a massive gulp of the mystery drink in her hand. 

“Any plans before the next season?” Alex’s words slurred together into one big nearly incomprehensible sentence. Lando, seated on the other side of Michaela, giggled incessantly before answering on behalf of the newly crowned champion. 

“You should try getting laid!” Dark eyes cut across to glare at him before they both fell into a shared giggle. Alex, dissatisfied by the lack of response from the Australian’s lips, whined impatiently. 

“C’mon, Mick, answer me.” 

“You talk funny when you’re drunk—” She continued giggling as Lando joined in imitating the oldest amongst the three. “Mickey!” He whined once more, face buried in his hands dramatically. 

“Fine!” 

She hummed to herself, much livelier with the endless flow of alcohol coursing through her.

“Lando’s right…” She pouted as if coming across an epiphany. “I should get laid.”

Alex shook his head as he turned to face her once more. 

“You can’t get laid yet!” 

Confusion gripped the two younger drivers, hanging on to his every word. 

“If you get laid, Lando’ll be the only virgin on the grid.” He could barely get the words out without a stumble of laughter.

A rumble of a laugh released itself from Michaela as she threw her head back in amusement. The driver beside her grumbled to himself, eyebrows furrowing as he stood up with a jerk. The mutter of an excuse to grab another drink fell on lost ears as Michaela and Alex took their turn to share a laugh. 

Just as soon as Lando left, his spot on the couch was taken by Pierre. The Frenchman threw a sluggish arm over Michaela’s shoulder before planting an exaggerated kiss on her temple, a “mwah!” ringing into her ears as she pushed him away. 

“Mickey, félicitations, ma jolie!” His words were—impossibly—more slurred than Alex’s, clear his intoxication had impaired his ability to distinguish between English and French. 

“Merci chouchou,” She responded through squished cheeks as the older driver pinched them together in his warm hands. 

“Are you getting laid tonight? I have a few suggestions.” He nearly sang the words into the Australian’s ears, his arms wrapping around her affectionately—not unlike his sober mannerisms. 

“We were just talking about that!” Alex spoke up excitedly before Michaela could reply. “I told her Carlos would be down but she said—”

“No! He fucks anything that walks.” 

Michaela ripped herself from Pierre’s arms at Alex’s suggestion. Crossing her own arms, she began to pace in front of the couch. Reaching for Alex’s drink, Michaela fell into deep thought, carefully surveying the section before them. Full of drivers across formulae and whoever they deemed glamorous enough to join them in their drunken celebrations, it was a dark-haired man who caught her eye. 

Recognizing the stillness in her stance, Pierre nudged a confused Alex before standing to join the younger woman. 

“His name’s Olivier, he’s with Giovinazzi.” 

Alex nodded, pushing his shoulder forward to nudge the shorter woman’s, “His trainer or something?” 

Pierre’s response—whatever it was—were ultimately ignored by Michaela who simply took another large gulp of his drink before surging forward. The cheers of Pierre and Alex were matched with a confused Lando as he returned drinkless.

Making eye contact with the dark-haired man—Olivier—his smile worked to quickly spur Michaela on. A surge of confidence ran through her as Antonio, and the rest of his entourage boyishly roughed up the subject of Michaela’s confidence. With a push forward, he was suddenly eye-to-eye with the Australian driver. 

His skin, nearly the same shade as her own, met hers with a heat so addictive Michaela swore she saw Eros. 

His voice, slow and accented—French, she decided—tickled at her ear as he bent down to speak to her over the noise of the EDM. 

His hands, lightning through her body grasping at her hips as she rocked above him late into the early morning. 

His lips, were gentle like the calming patter of the rain against her spine as he slipped out of her bed, number scribbled on the hotel notepad, and a sweater marked with his scent left to lie next to her luggage.

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@emilyval1

[37sommz-archive]

Alright so we’ve got old!bae in Button - but who is age appropriate bae?

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀AYANA RESPONDS⠀⠀. . .

tbh i haven't fully decided! he will be age appropriate, but other than that idk

✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

[37sommz-archive]

Does it ever come out about her and Button? If so what’s the media reaction? Lewis and Sainz? Her family ?

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀AYANA RESPONDS⠀⠀. . .

this whole thing is def a huge plot point for some of her career decisions between 2020-2023 so i don't wanna give away too much lol. but, it never comes out officially, there were rumors and several people knew that it was happening but they weren't soft launching on ig or anything.

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[37sommz-archive]

✼. THRU SPACE 'N TIME | THE FAMILY.

NOW PLAYING: michaela's family members. ✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✹.⠀The Sommers family is very tight-knit. Throughout her career, Michaela's family has made a lot of sacrifices to provide her with the opportunities that have enabled her to become the driver she is today. Ever grateful, Michaela has never let them forget how precious they all are to her. Between luxurious gifts and simple podium gestures, the Sommers family retains the ultimate spotlight within Michaela's career.

TOBIAS SOMMERS is the father of Formula One racing driver Michaela Sommers. Attributed by his daughter as being the "driving force" behind her love of racing, Sommers gifted her with a go-kart for her fifth birthday as a form of bonding. After Michaela fell in love with driving, he entered her in karting competitions across eastern Australia. After losing his job in 2012 through massive layoffs, Michaela would be forced to put a hold on her racing for nearly a year before leaving for the UK with the financial assistance of Tobias' younger brother, Travis. Currently, Tobias Sommers is a frequent face in the paddock on race weekends. Notoriously, he can be found wearing the cap of his daughter's team while conversing with her manager Guido Marotta.

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE BASICS.

birth name: tobias stephen sommers

alias: toby sommers

date of birth: october 20, 1970

zodiac sign: libra

hometown: whyalla, australia

ethnicity: australian

nationality: australian

languages: english

height: 5'10" (178 cm)

career: accountant

faceclaim: guy pearce

MIRIAM SOMMERS, better known by her professional name Miriam Sandile, is the mother of Formula One racing driver Michaela Sommers. Born in Johannesburg, South Africa, Sandile moved to Australia at the age of 17 to pursue a professional dance career with the Sydney Dance Company. After marrying Tobias Sommers, Miriam moved to Gold Coast to focus on choreography. According to her youngest daughter, Miriam was not as enthusiastic as her husband with Michaela's love for racing. In fact, she would avoid watching full races due to her overwhelming anxiety. Regardless, Miriam did her best to prepare her daughter for the impending negativity that would follow her throughout her career. Ever proud of her daughter's accomplishments, Miriam has a hand in every contract Michaela signs.

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE BASICS.

birth name: miriam yonela sandile

legal name: miriam yonela sommers

date of birth: january 26, 1970

zodiac sign: aquarius

hometown: johannesburg, south africa

ethnicity: xhosa

nationality: south african

languages: english, xhosa

height: 5'7" (170 cm)

career: choreographer

faceclaim: hlubi mboya

COURTNEY SOMMERS is the older sister of Formula One racing driver Michaela Sommers. Five years the driver's senior, Michaela often jokes about her sister's taking after her mother in regards to her distaste for racing. While Tobias Sommers was unable to convince his older daughter to pick up his interest in motorsport, Courtney is a passive fan of formula racing. Although the distance between the two sisters often results in relationship strain due to their equally headstrong natures, the two are still incredibly close. In her free time away from her work with her STEM foundation, Courtney can be seen supporting Michaela (from a stress-free distance).

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE BASICS.

birth name: courtney christine sommers

alias: coco sommers

date of birth: august 06, 1994

zodiac sign: leo

hometown: gold coast, australia

ethnicity: australian & xhosa

nationality: australian

languages: english

height: 5'6" (168 cm)

career: nonprofit advocacy director

faceclaim: carolyn moore

TRAVIS SOMMERS is the uncle and former manager of Formula One racing driver Michaela Sommers. As the younger brother of Sommers' father, Tobias, Travis spent much of his niece's early childhood tagging along to her karting competitions. Sharing his brother's love for all things racing, Travis invested a great deal of time into ensuring his niece's karts were in prime condition for competition while pulling strings in the background to get her into races for older children. Recognizing her potential early on, Travis stepped up to provide the financial support for Michaela's racing career after his brother lost his job in 2012. Moving to the UK, Travis became Michaela's full-time guardian and manager, establishing connections across all levels of formula racing to ensure his niece would be able to achieve her dreams and more. Known to be a lion of negotiation, Sommers stepped back from managing Michaela's career in 2016, only after securing top manager Guido Marotta to replace him. Travis continues to have input in Michaela's career, namely with sponsors and promotional appearances but has since shifted his focus to making a Formula One caliber racer in his young son, Quentin.

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE BASICS.

birth name: travis joseph sommers

date of birth: november 03, 1980

zodiac sign: scorpio

hometown: whyalla, australia

ethnicity: australian

nationality: australian

languages: english

height: 6'1" (185 cm)

career: day trader

faceclaim: alex o’laughlin

BEENA KOTHARE is the wife of Travis Sommers. Frequently referred to as the calming force to calm Travis' madness, Beena is credited for establishing a connection between Prema Racing principal, Rene Rosin and her husband. Michaela attributes much of her demeanor to the elegant editor who continues to work as a fashion editor for Harper's Bazaar. Beena is typically spotted accompanying her husband to Formula races and being more than supportive of her son's racing ambitions.

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE BASICS.

birth name: beena kothare

legal name: beena kothare-sommers

date of birth: september 17, 1985

zodiac sign: virgo

hometown: london, england

ethnicity: marathi

nationality: english

languages: english

height: 5'2" (157 cm)

career: harper's bazaar editor

faceclaim: dilshad vadsaria

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[37sommz-archive]

Jenson??? Not her having a controversially older boyfriend! I see you sis!!

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀AYANA RESPONDS⠀⠀. . .

just look at the material! i would do it too <3

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[37sommz-archive]

Is it Jenson Button ??

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀AYANA RESPONDS⠀⠀. . .

def broke her heart but yes <3333

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