#London bound flight crash

[hc24news]

Gujarat Plane Crash: अहमदाबाद में टेकऑफ के तुरंत बाद बड़ा विमान हादसा, 242 लोगों की मौत की आशंका

Gujarat Plane Crash: गुजरात के अहमदाबाद में गुरुवार दोपहर एक भीषण विमान हादसा हुआ है. एयर इंडिया का बोइंग ड्रीमलाइनर 787 विमान, जिसमें 242 यात्री सवार थे, टेकऑफ करते ही दुर्घटनाग्रस्त हो गया है. यह विमान लंदन के लिए उड़ान भर रहा था, लेकिन सरदार वल्लभभाई पटेल इंटरनेशनल एयरपोर्ट से उड़ान भरते ही एक इमारत से टकरा गया, जिससे यह जलकर राख हो गया है. प्रत्यक्षदर्शियों के अनुसार, मेघानीनगर इलाके में…

[kamalkafir-blog]

Vishwaskumar Ramesh survivor video surfaced after Ahmedabad Plane Crash Boeing 787 accident London bound flight crash India

[NEWS] Vishwaskumar Ramesh Survivor Viral Video: गुजरात के अहमदाबाद में गुरुवार (12 जून, 2025) को एक बड़ा विमान हादसा हुआ. एअर इंडिया का एक विमान, जो लंदन जा रहा था, उड़ान भरने के कुछ ही समय बाद दुर्घटनाग्रस्त हो गया. यह विमान बीजे मेडिकल कॉलेज और उसके हॉस्टल से टकरा गया. हादसे के समय वहां भीषण आग लग गई और चारों तरफ अफरा-तफरी मच गई. इस हादसे के बीच एक चौंकाने वाला वीडियो सामने आया है, जिसमें एक…

[journosatyam]

ahmedabad-plane-crash-victims-names-air-india-flight-ai171-tragedy

अहमदाबाद विमान हादसा: जो लोग मारे गए, उनके नाम क्या हैं?

यर इंडिया ने विमान हादसे में जान गंवाने वाले लोगों के नाम को सार्वजनिक किया है. हादसे में 241 लोगों की मौत हुई है. उड़ान भरने के महज 33 सेकेंड बाद क्रैश हुई फ्लाइट में 229 यात्री मारे गए, 12 क्रू मेंबर्स की मौत हुई. मारे गए लोगों में ब्रिटिश और भारतीय नागिरक भी शामिल हैं. एक भारतीय मूल का शख्स विश्वास कुमार रमेश जिंदा बच गए हैं. उनके बचने की कहानी चौंकाने वाली है. वह अभी अस्पताल में भर्ती हैं. प्रधानमंत्री नरेंद्र मोदी ने उनसे मुलाकात की है और उनका हाल जाना है. 

एयक्राफ्ट बोइंग 787-8  ड्रीमलाइनर का सीरियल नंबर AI 171 था. यह विमान सीधे मेघाणी नगर पर इलाके में 1.39 मिनट पर एक इमारत पर गिर गया, जिसकी वजह से वहां भी तबाही मच गई. अचानक पूरे आसमान में धुएं का गुबार नजर आने लगा. मारे गए लोगों में गुजरात के मुख्यमंत्री भूपेंद्र पटेल भी शामिल हैं. 

मृतकों में कई भारतीय, पुर्तगाली और ब्रिटिश नागरिक शामिल हैं. आइए जानते हैं हादसे में किन लोगों की मौत हुई है- 

पूरा आर्टिकल पढ़ने के लिए नीचे लिंक पर क्लिक कर पढ़ें👇

अहमदाबाद विमान हादसा: जो लोग मारे गए, उनके नाम क्या हैं?

[lmsintmedia]

Prime Minister Narendra Modi Speaks Following Air India Flight 171 Crash in Ahmedabad

Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi has shared his grief following the tragic crash of an Air India flight departing from Ahmedabad en route to London Gatwick Airport. According to LMSINT MEDIA, a Boeing 787 Dreamliner operated by Air India Limited crashed shortly after takeoff from Ahmedabad on Thursday. The ill-fated Flight 171 was transporting approximately 242 passengers and crew…

[jan-media-tv]

Air India Plane Crashes in Ahmedabad Airport, 242 Feared Dead | London-B...

[rafecameronsslut4ever]

CASUAL — lando norris (smut, angst, nsfw)

pairing; fem!reader x lando norris summary: whatever you and lando have, it's anything but 'casual'. warnings: smut 18+, a LOT of angst, mdni, fingering, oral (f receiving), (situationship?) a/n: i lowkey want chappell roan's casual to be inserted into my brain and OMG this one is too sad

part 2 - casual

"nah, nah. the two of us... it's complicated, y'know? just a casual thing, honestly."

the words echoed in your mind on the flight from london, replaying as the seatbelt sign dinged off.

casual.

the word had always carried a negative connotation, but hearing him say it made you feel so much worse. it made you feel insignificant, as if the months that had passed meant nothing to him, while it had meant so much more to you.

you were anything but casual.

all those nights, the mornings after, the kisses, the rendezvouses. they meant something, didn't they? you thought they did, at least.

the way he'd look at you when the lights dimmed and his voice would turn soft. the way he'd kiss you as if it was what he was made to do.

he knew every inch of you. every freckle, every curve. he knew you better than he knew the tracks he raced on.

but, then again, lando norris was never known for being reliable.

he was young and wild and carefree, a bachelor to be envied by all. a party boy, a flirt, a ladies' man. he was charming and he knew it.

he was good at making people believe that they were special.

everyone loved him. the oh-so charming lando norris. the young driver who had a bright future ahead of him. he was bound to get whatever he wanted, right?

the first night he touched you, the two of you had come to an agreement—no attachment. he made it clear that he didn't have time for anything serious, but that he would love to have fun with you.

you, of course, had agreed to that.

in the beginning it was nothing. 'accidentally' crashing into each other at parties, accompanying the other into hotel rooms, and then disappearing as soon as the sun rose.

but do these 'no attachments' things ever work? it wasn't even a complete month before the two of you became more and more involved and realised you weren't just having fun.

as you exited the airplane, your heart clenched at the thought. the two of you had never actually said anything, but it was there, hanging in the air, almost suffocating you.

the first time you realised it wasn't just fun, you were in the passenger seat of his mclaren. he was on his knees, big blue eyes staring into yours as he flicked his tongue in you. you were so close, you had been for a while. he could tell. his eyes were locked onto yours, a glint of smugness in them. and then, with the tip of his finger, he brought you over the edge.

after you both came, he had crawled into the driver's seat and smiled at you. his lips glistened, his chin damp, and his hair sticking up in places.

"you look beautiful." he said, a hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"i think i like you." his voice was barely a whisper, and if you hadn't been staring right into his eyes you might've missed what he said.

"yeah, me too." your voice was breathless.

and that was the only time either of you'd ever said anything about it.

was it casual?

then, that one time when you had flown to his family home in the uk and met his parents. they'd welcomed you with open arms and treated you like one of their own, and lando's face had glowed with joy the whole time.

"i still can't believe that lando has such a pretty girlfriend." his mom had said to you, giggling as the two of you shared a bottle of wine.

"mom!" lando had whined from the other room. "can't you just shut up for once?"

"oh, hush! i'm just saying it as it is." she shrugged.

you had blushed furiously at her words, looking down at your feet as you took another sip of the expensive italian wine.

you had thought he would deny the 'girlfriend' title, or at least laugh it off, but he didn't. instead, he grinned like an idiot and you wondered if the wine had gone to his head.

"yeah, guess i got lucky." he'd muttered, and his mom had smiled, nodding knowingly.

when the day ended, you had fallen asleep curled up next to him, his body warmth enveloping you like a blanket.

now, your eyes stung as you walked through the airport, a million thoughts running through your mind.

you'd spent the rest of the week there and it was the best time you'd had in a while. he'd taken you on a day-trip to oxford, but the two of you ended up staying the night at some cottage. he'd held you closer, kissed you harder. you slept together as many times as you could.

fuck, you weren't just casual.

and the time the you woke up in each other's arms, his face buried in your hair, hands wrapped around your waist. he had asked you what your plans for the future were.

"get an apartment in monaco right next to yours so that i can stalk you everyday. binoculars and everything." you had joked.

"really? not gonna say you're going to marry me and have a billion kids and we're gonna grow old together?"

you'd looked up at him, eyebrows raised. and then the two of you had burst out laughing.

"what the fuck, lando. i'm not having a billion kids with you."

he just smirked in response.

or the time when the two of you vacationed in italy with his friends, and at the pier he had introduced you as his 'hotshot pr girl'.

"he's paying me a million dollars to pretend to be his girlfriend because he doesn't like being called a virgin."

"hey!" he'd laughed, nudging you.

"shut up, loser."

and then you'd pushed him into the water.

"i'm never talking to you again." he'd pouted.

"oh yeah, find someone else to have your billion kids with. my uterus will be happy."

or the countless times he would call you in the middle of the night and tell you about his new merch drop, and you'd whine about how it was 2 in the morning and you couldn't give a flying fuck.

and when you had just gotten off the phone with his sister, "flo is such a sweetheart, i love her."

"my sister talks to you more than she talks to me. you know she likes you better, right?" he'd mumbled, looking offended.

"what can i say, i'm such a charmer." you'd said in the most british accent you could muster, and he'd rolled his eyes and shoved your face away.

december came, and cisca invited you to celebrate christmas with them.

"if he doesn't ask you to be his girlfriend, promise me you'll tell him it's over." your best friend had said, looking at you sternly.

you had just sighed in response, shaking your head.

"i'm serious. you don't deserve someone like that. not if he doesn't think you're worth the commitment."

"you're right. i know. i'm just... i'm just scared. i like him so much. i don't know what to do."

the morning of christmas, you'd landed in london and gone straight to his place. he was all dressed up, and you'd almost cried at how gorgeous he looked.

"merry christmas, darling." he'd murmured, and you'd melted at his words. he welcomed you with a kiss, the way he always did.

the day was spent exchanging gifts with his family, watching christmas movies and cuddling under blankets.

his family adored you.

"i'm glad you're here." he said.

"where else would i be?"

"anywhere else."

you smiled at him, and he returned it with a cheshire cat one.

that night, the two of you had been invited to dinner with his parents, and halfway through the meal you'd excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

as you stood there washing your hands, you'd heard the door swing open, and the familiar figure appeared next to you, locking the door behind him.

"lando."

"yeah?"

"what are you doing?"

"i need to wash my hands." he'd shrugged.

you raised a brow at him, looking at him pointedly.

he shrugged again, taking a step towards you.

"you look too good in this dress, can't help it."

you rolled your eyes as he stepped closer to you, fingers about to grasp your waist before you told him to back off.

"what?"

"wash your hands first. didn't you come here to wash your hands? there's no way in hell i'm letting greasy salmon fingers touch me."

and then the two of you had laughed before his lips found yours lips. it felt so natural, the way your body reacted to his touch or the way your lips melted into his.

"lando, we shouldn't." you protested, neck arching as he pressed kisses everwhere.

"shut up." he grabbed your waist before pushing you against the counter, his lips crashing back into yours.

"what happened to your hands? i told you to wash them."

"fuck the hands."

"technically-"

"shut the fuck up." he groaned, dipping a finger between your thighs. "you're dripping. fucking hell."

pulling his fingers out, his knee pushed your thighs apart, spreading your legs apart.

you gasped, shifting your hands as you balanced yourself against the counter. his eyes locked in yours as his finger dragged across your core.

"fuck, you're so pretty." he whispered, eyes digging into yours.

"lando, please."

"please what?" he asked as he slipped two fingers inside you.

your eyes squeezed shut, head leaning against the mirror behind you. "oh, fuck."

"i asked a question."

you were quick to answer, fisting his shirt as his fingers moved inside you. "please fuck me, oh my god."

he smirked before dropping to his knees, spreading your thighs and pressing his tongue onto your clit. you yelped at the sudden feeling of his mouth sucking at your clit; eyes rolling back.

his hands grabbed your legs, swinging them over his shoulder. hand sprawled over your stomach, pushing you back against the counter.

when his tongue curled into you, brushing that spot he never failed to miss, you couldn't help but let a loud moan escape you.

lando hushed you; tapping your thigh. “gotta be quiet baby,” lando said through heavy breaths before pushing his face back into you.

biting into your lip, your fingers ran through his curls, admiring the sight of his head moving between your thighs.

your moans filled the small bathroom, the sound like music to his ears.

"lando," your voice was shaky, breath hitching as he picked up the pace, his hands pushing your hips down.

he hummed in response, the vibration sending waves throughout your body.

and then your body was trembling, and you were gripping his hair, his tongue still moving.

you were seeing stars, vision going white as your legs quivered around his face.

"oh, god." you sighed, chest rising and falling as he pulled his fingers out, smirking up at you.

"c'mon baby, give me one more."

it wasn't casual.

now, walking through the terminal, dragging your suitcase behind you, the tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

maybe he said 'casual' just to tell his friends he was still a player. or maybe, he was referring to the fact that the two of you were just friends who hooked up sometimes.

but whatever he meant, it wasn't the truth.

both of you knew it.

casual wasn't the way he held you close during thunderstorms, wasn't the way he'd make sure coffee was the perfect temperature, wasn't the way he'd look at you as if the world stopped turning.

the way he'd stare into your eyes as the lights turned off, the way he'd press a kiss onto your temple, the way he'd say your name.

it wasn't casual.

[bangtanhoneys]

GRACE TOUR DIARY: April 18th 2025, Paris & London

APRIL 17TH & 18TH - PARIS & LONDON 

By 11 p.m., the Accor Arena was nearly empty, the roar of thousands now replaced with the low thrum of forklifts and voices calling cues. Crew members were still packing the final load of flight cases, while stadium staff swept through confetti-strewn aisles and folded up stray banners left behind. But backstage, things had calmed. The storm had passed.

The dancers had already been loaded into waiting cars bound for the hotel, where they’d have a night to rest before flying to London the next day. The rest of the crew, stylists, choreographers and techs, were finishing up the last of their clear-out, boxing up costumes, coiling wires, and sealing wardrobe trunks, ready to be shipped overnight and getting themselves ready for their flights tomorrow. 

For Grace, Seokjin, Hana, Sejin, and two of their security team, it was time to move.

The transformation from onstage icon to just Grace had already happened. The makeup was wiped clean, her blonde hair brushed out and braided into a loose plait. She wore soft grey joggers, a hoodie two sizes too big (one of Seokjin’s), and trainers, her essentials tucked into a crossbody bag. Seokjin had changed too, into jeans and a sweatshirt, low cap pulled over his brow.

Sejin led them through a dim corridor behind the arena, one only known to staff, skirting past final pockets of lingering fans and the last security checks. Just beyond the rear gates, their SUV waited with engines humming and doors already open.

“Jet is ready,” Sejin confirmed, helping Hana and the bodyguards load the remaining luggage into the boot, bags that had been packed that morning in preparation for the overnight jump to London.

Grace let out a long, exhausted breath as she folded into the cool leather seats. The cushions swallowed her up, and she leaned her head back, eyes fluttering closed for a second. Seokjin reached across the seat and rested a hand gently on her thigh, grounding her with a soft squeeze.

“You still buzzing?” he asked as the car pulled away from the venue, the glowing Accor Arena slowly fading into the rearview mirror.

“A little,” she murmured, her voice low and raw. The adrenaline still fizzed at the edge of her nerves, but she could already feel the weight of fatigue pulling at her. “But I’ll sleep. I always crash after.”

Paris was slipping into its midnight hush as they made their way through the city. The streets were still alive, late-night cafés, neon-lit corner shops, and taxis ferrying concertgoers back to hotels and train stations. Fans had scattered, some to AirBnBs, some to hotels, some to friends’ couches, some still clinging to the experience as they scrolled through fancams under streetlamps. But the buzz of the night still hung over the city like smoke from fireworks.

The drive to Le Bourget, the private jet terminal on the outskirts of Paris, took just over half an hour. When they arrived, the sleek black jet was already waiting for them on the tarmac, engines silent but prepped.

A chill wind whipped across the runway, and Grace shivered as she stepped out of the car. Seokjin, without missing a beat, transferred their carry-on bags into one hand and pulled her in close with the other, his arm wrapped warmly around her shoulders.

Airport security was brisk; there were no lines or press, just a few nods and a flash of IDs as they moved through the private terminal. Sejin’s planning had smoothed every wrinkle before they even arrived.

They silently crossed the lit runway, the hum of night surrounding them. Inside the jet, the cabin was softly lit and inviting. Tea, warm towels, and a spread of late-night snacks were waiting. Blankets and slippers had already been placed on the leather recliners. Hana and Sejin sank into their usual spots, immediately reaching for laptops and phones, already looking ahead to the schedule for London.

Grace curled up near the window, knees tucked beneath her, a blanket pulled up to her chest. Seokjin took the seat across from her, slipping off his cap and stretching out.

“Try and sleep,” he said gently, watching her eyes already start to drift shut.

From his chair, Sejin’s voice floated back. “We’ll be arriving in Luton in just over an hour.”

But there was no response from Grace. Her eyes had barely fluttered shut before sleep claimed her completely, her body sinking deep into the leather seat.

The flight was smooth and quiet. When they finally touched down on British soil at exactly 1:30 a.m., the cabin lights dimmed further as the door was opened to the cool London air.

Grace stirred only slightly, barely awake, as she descended the steps with Seokjin’s steady hand guiding her. She breathed in the damp, familiar scent of the UK, rain-kissed tarmac, that somewhat cool but somewhat warm breeze, something nostalgic. She was home finally.

On the tarmac, the team went through swift border checks, thanks to pre-cleared documentation arranged by Sejin, and were escorted directly into a waiting blacked-out SUV. By 1:45 a.m., they were in motion, cutting through the quiet roads of early-morning London.

The city was hushed in a way it rarely was, the skyline silhouetted against the faintest edge of dawn. Grace leaned her head against the window, eyes closed again. Seokjin sat beside her, arms crossed but relaxed, already half-asleep. In the seat behind them, Hana scrolled through a final list of tomorrow’s press briefings while Sejin reviewed venue security logistics and any news from HYBE.

Within minutes, both Grace and Seokjin had drifted off again, lulled by the gentle rhythm of the road.

Forty minutes later, their SUV pulled up to their hotel on Canary Wharf, the Thames glinting in the dark and the iconic O2 Arena glowing in the distance

“I’m awake… just about,” Grace mumbled, rubbing her hands over her face as the car began to slow. Beside her, Seokjin let out a long yawn and stretched, blinking at the ceiling like he wasn’t quite sure what country, or time zone, they were in. But the moment the SUV doors opened and the cool London air hit them, it all came rushing back.

Luggage was quickly offloaded: suitcases, briefcases, carry-ons, garment bags, the organised chaos of a touring team in motion. The hotel staff were already waiting in the lobby, discreet and efficient, checking them in with ease of experience. They’d taken over the top floor entirely: Grace and Seokjin were in the penthouse suite, while Sejin, Hana, their stylists, security, and crew were just down the hallway. The dancers would arrive later in the morning and occupy the next floor down.

“Wow,” Grace whispered as she and Seokjin stepped into the suite. They both stood still for a moment.

The lamps were on, casting a warm, golden hue across the space, just enough light to navigate without harshness. The floor-to-ceiling windows had been left uncovered, revealing a breathtaking view of the Thames and the glowing white dome of the O2 Arena across the water. It dominated the skyline, perfectly framed from every room in the suite. Down below, Grace spotted a few crew members creeping around the venue, already prepping for the coming days.

“Right,” Sejin said behind them, checking his watch. “Wake-up call at 10 a.m. We've got a full schedule, half press, half free time. So both of you, try and get some decent sleep.”

With a few more soft instructions, the team slipped out, the door clicking shut behind them.

Seokjin was already padding across the suite, shoes kicked off, heading straight for the bed like a man on a mission. Grace lingered at the window for just a beat longer, arms folded as she gazed out at the view.

“I’m home,” she said softly, almost to herself. Then louder, with a smile, “Back in good old England.”

She kicked off her shoes beside Seokjin’s and crossed the room to join him, the city outside glittering like a welcome.

APRIL 18TH - LONDON 

It wasn’t an alarm that woke Grace, or even Sejin knocking at the door. It was the soft sound of boats drifting along the Thames, London already alive and moving, the city’s usual hustle carrying on without pause or permission.

She peeled open her eyes to see it was 9 a.m. A full hour before the team would arrive to get them moving. With a yawn and a long stretch, Grace rolled over to find Seokjin still fast asleep, mouth slightly open and snoring into his pillow. It was hard not to laugh, harder still not to take a photo.

She slid out of bed and wandered to the window, where the curtains had been left open. Outside, boats passed by in rhythmic lines and the O2 Arena stood proud across the river. Down below, she spotted the first truck arriving, loaded with equipment for her show.

After a long shower and a proper cup of tea (thank God for British teabags), Grace sent a quick message to her mum: "Morning from an overcast London."

She attached a photo of the O2 in the distance.

It wasn’t long before a reply pinged back. A picture of her mum, dad, and Min-ji grinning over a plate of chicken arrived, along with the caption: "Evening from Seoul! I’ll be sending Seokjin my list later. Say hello to the city for me."

Her mother had been born and raised in London, so had her grandparents, and theirs before them. Grace had never met her grandparents; they had passed before she was born. But her father, Sung, often shared stories of her grandmother: a small but fierce woman who once asked where on earth Korea was and then fell in love with the man who came from it. Her grandmother had tried every Korean dish Sung introduced her to and had proudly taught him how to cook the perfect Sunday roast. She’d passed just before Grace’s mum learned she was pregnant.

“Where am I?” a groggy voice pulled Grace from her thoughts.

“You are currently in London, capital of England, and it is 9:35 a.m.,” she said, turning to hand Seokjin a mug. “Proper tea, too.”

He blinked at her, barely awake. Everything about him screamed let me sleep another five hours, as if he’d just finished the concert himself instead of her. Still, ever the supportive boyfriend, he took a sip, paused, then frowned and walked over to the coffee machine.

“Heathen,” Grace teased with a grin. “Shower is amazing, by the way. You’ve got like twenty minutes before the cavalry arrives.”

He grunted in response. Another grunt came from the bathroom as he shuffled that way, coffee in hand.

Grace set to work unpacking the essentials: toiletries laid out on the bathroom counter (timed just as Seokjin stepped into the shower), gaming consoles, phone chargers, purse, and a few comfort items. Clothes not selected for the day were hung neatly, and a quick check of the weather forecast, of course it was drizzle, meant sandals were out and trainers were in. 

And, right on schedule, there was a knock at the door. The team had arrived.

“Morning,” Sejin called out as he stepped into the suite, followed closely by Hana, a couple of managers, and the head bodyguard. One by one, they filtered into the living area like a well-rehearsed routine.

“Everyone’s looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,” Grace quipped as she began handing out mugs, motioning toward the kettle and coffee machine. Predictably, in true Korean fashion, everyone made a beeline for the coffee.

Sejin glanced around, clearly taking attendance.

“Seokjin’s in the shower,” Grace answered before he could ask, settling into a chair near the window with a fresh cup of tea in hand. Now that she was properly caffeinated and dressed, she felt far more human than she had an hour ago.

The suite had fully come to life now. Laptops were opened, notepads flipped, and the sound of coffee being brewed was matched only by the shuffling of papers and the quiet murmurs of coordination. Grace, still curled into her seat by the window, sipped her tea while scanning the familiar, focused energy in the room.

Sejin cleared his throat and stood in front of the low coffee table, tablet in hand.

“So, today’s a fairly easy one,” he began. “Tomorrow is a full press day, interviews, TV, radio, all of it, so we’ve got an early start, which is why we’re keeping things light today. In two hours, you’ve got the tour conference. We haven’t really done one since your solo debut, and there’ll be a Q&A section afterwards for both the press and invited attendees.”

He glanced down at his tablet.  “That should run from 10 a.m. to roughly 1 p.m. After that, the rest of the day is yours.”

“I think just relaxing and grabbing some proper food would be good for the whole team,” Grace replied. “And I know Seokjin wants to see a few things, but depending on timing, it might make sense for him to go out with a team tomorrow while I’m tied up with the press.”

“I can take him,” Hana offered. “We’ve got more than enough staff to manage both of you.”

Sejin nodded. “That works. Just keep in touch with the driver and comms.” He tapped to the next part of the schedule. “And Sunday, you’ve got a full day of rehearsals. Venue access opens at 1 p.m., and you’ll be in until around 11:30 at night. So, if Seokjin doesn’t want to go exploring on his own, you’ll have the morning free to do something together.”

Right on cue, Seokjin emerged from the bedroom, fully dressed but still towel-drying his hair.

“I’m happy to go with the flow,” he said, voice casual. “Let’s keep both options open. I know Grace’s eomma is going to have a shopping list for me anyway.”

Grace laughed while nodding in agreement. “She said she’d be sending a list over later.”

Sejin tapped a few more things on his tablet, double-checked the schedule, and then flipped the cover shut.

“Right,” he said, straightening. “Let’s get some breakfast going. Everyone else is still flying in from Paris, so the glam squad won’t be here in time to get you sorted.”

Grace rolled her eyes, smiling as she finished the last sip of her tea. “It’s not like I don’t know how to do my own makeup. I’ve already got my outfit picked, too.”

Without a word, Hana stood and disappeared into the bedroom to inspect what Grace had laid out. She returned a moment later, gave a single approving nod, and sat back down, silent confirmation in Grace’s book.

“Okay,” Grace said, standing. “Breakfast it is.”

Breakfast, complete with every traditional British item on the menu, was utter chaos in the suite, but it was the kind of chaos that brought comfort. Plates of eggs, sausages, toast, beans, tomatoes, and hash browns filled the table, while tea and coffee circulated in equal measure.

It gave the team a chance to breathe before the day kicked into high gear. No talk of press schedules or stage layouts, just laughter, casual conversation, and catching up on life with the people they’d been working alongside for years. For a moment, it didn’t feel like a tour. It felt like home.

Grace’s makeup didn’t take long. She kept it minimal, just enough to look polished on camera without overdoing it. Her outfit followed the same principle: clean and smart. Dark jeans, a crisp white blouse, a tailored navy jacket, and black heels. Simple yet confident.

The last time Grace or Seokjin had been in London was for BTS’s sold-out Wembley concerts in 2019. Now, she was back, this time for her own sold-out shows at the O2 Arena. It was a venue she had never stepped foot in before, and today, she would walk through its doors for the first time, for her tour conference and then for her own two concerts. 

It took twenty-four minutes to reach the venue, despite it being just across the river. The route wound along the motorway, past graffiti-laden walls, and through the Silvertown Tunnel.

“Such a roundabout way to get to a venue,” Seokjin remarked, glancing at the map on his phone.

“London for you,” Grace sighed, watching the blur of concrete and rain-slicked roads pass by. They weren’t in the iconic heart of the city, but even from here, she could see the O2 Arena starting to peek through the skyline, its white dome and yellow support towers rising like a distant monument.

When it finally came into full view, just beyond the curve of the road, Grace let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. Up close, the O2 was colossal, more imposing than she expected. And now, she wasn’t just arriving. She was entering it as the headliner.

They cleared security quickly and were ushered into the venue through a staff entrance tucked discreetly along the side of the arena. Inside, the space was already alive with movement. Crew members moved with practised precision, checking lighting rigs, adjusting backdrops, and testing microphones. Cables coiled across the floor like veins, while rows of press seats were being aligned with military efficiency.

Though smaller than the main stage area, the event space carried its own kind of gravity. Banners bearing Grace’s name, alongside the HYBE and Big Hit logos and the tour title, hung neatly along the walls, softly illuminated by a cool blue-white glow. At the front stood a long desk draped in a crisp white cloth, a single microphone on top, a glass, and two bottles of water—simple, but focused.

Large screens cycled through a carefully curated slideshow: stills from her music videos, behind-the-scenes concert shots from the tour so far, and, inevitably, footage of BTS from their last London performance together. It was a nod to where she came from and who she still carried with her.

The journalists and panel attendees were being guided through the space and allowed a quick walk-through before the main event. The buzz of conversation echoed softly through the room as everyone settled into their roles.

Sejin checked his watch, then looked over at Grace.  “We’ve got about an hour before the conference starts,” he said. “Plenty of time.”

Before Grace could finish taking in the event space, Hana was already tapping her on the arm.“Come on. Outside. You’re taking some photos in front of the arena,” she said, already steering her toward the exit.

“In the drizzle?” Grace groaned.

“It’s basically London’s version of sunshine,” Sejin said with a smirk, trailing behind. “Besides, you’re headlining the O2. No way you’re skipping a photo op.”

Grace rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. There was a quick stop near the doors to touch up her makeup and hair, a travel-sized mirror flashed in front of her, and an umbrella was handed over to keep her dry, at least until the cameras were rolling.

The staff entrance opened out onto the main plaza, where the O2 Arena rose like a modern coliseum, its white dome and yellow support towers looming against the grey, misty sky. The pavement glistened with recent rain, and the air smelled clean and damp, so unmistakably London.

“Alright,” Hana called, already lifting her phone into position. “Let’s give ARMY what they want.”

Grace stepped forward, posing effortlessly, one hand in her pocket, a soft smile, then a dramatic look off into the distance. The poses shifted quickly from serious to playful. She threw up a peace sign, did a mock bow, and at one point, Seokjin appeared in the background mid-jump, photobombing like he was back in the maknae line.

She nearly doubled over laughing. “What are you doing?”

“Adding charm,” he said innocently.

She thought it was over, until Seokjin appeared beside her, holding up his phone in selfie mode.

“You know we have to,” he said with a grin, already framing the shot. Grace gave him an exaggerated look of exasperation which was mixed with fondness, then leaned in.

Click.

The photo was up on Seokjin’s Instagram before they were even back inside: “Conference day. She’s got this. #O2Takeover #GraceInLondon #PowerDuo”

Within seconds of Seokjin’s post, the comments section exploded. Likes poured in by the thousands, and ARMY from every time zone jumped into the replies, flooding the comment section with purple hearts, crying emojis, and rapid-fire praise.

@minyoongiedaydream: “NO ONE TALK TO ME I’M EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE FROM THIS PHOTO #GraceInLondon”

@bts8tillinfinity: “Grace in front of the O2 looking like she already owns it?? The era we were promised.”

@hobislightstick:  “The umbrella, the coat, the misty backdrop… she’s giving BBC drama lead who also just casually headlines a world tour.”

@londonarmyxoxo: “Not me crying on the DLR because I live twenty minutes from the O2 and she’s right THERE!!!!!!!!!! someone breathe for me”

On Big Hit’s official Twitter and WeVerse accounts, Hana had already uploaded one of the photos of Grace. The caption read:  “From London to Manchester to Seoul to Wembley… and now to the O2. London, it’s nice to be home.”

Within seconds, it began trending on Twitter, especially as the live feed of the conference went live, drawing in fans from around the world. Screenshots flooded timelines. Hashtags shot up the charts. ARMY was already tuned in, ready to witness the moment.

Back inside, the shift in atmosphere was immediate. The noise from the outside plaza faded, replaced by the low thrum of controlled movement, staff voices over walkie-talkies, distant mic tests, and the quiet shuffle of final preparations.

Grace handed off the umbrella and coat, already feeling the familiar hum of adrenaline settling beneath her skin. Her heels clicked softly as she followed Sejin and Hana back through the corridor, deeper into the heart of the venue.

They paused outside the holding room just off the stage. “Ten minutes,” Sejin said, glancing at his watch. “Short intro video, then you’re up.”

The lights in the hall dimmed slightly, and Sejin leaned in to speak quietly into his headset. Grace could hear the crowd beyond the curtain now, muffled but buzzing with anticipation. She caught faint notes of the opening music starting to play, an instrumental version of In My Head.

A tech peeked around the corner. “Two minutes.”

Grace turned toward the mirror one last time, smoothing her jacket, and Seokjin reached over to smooth her hair down her back. She gave him a small smile, to which he gave her a wink in return, reaching down to take hold of her hand and give it a solid squeeze.

As the livestream clock ticked down, tens of thousands of ARMY across the world watched from phones, laptops, tablets, some at desks with earbuds in, some curled up in bed, some gathered in group chats already screaming in all caps.

The screen went black for a moment. Then the intro started.

A short, cinematic reel rolled across the screen: Grace on stage during her debut tour stops in Seoul, Los Angeles, Chicago, New York and Paris. Snippets of choreography. Behind-the-scenes laughs. Her walking into venues. One quiet moment of her watching a rehearsal from the wings, silhouetted by purple light.

Then came the voiceover: “From Manchester to Seoul, and now back in London after five years, please welcome Grammy award-winning, Grace Chu, of BTS.”

The audience inside the venue erupted into applause. Not thunderous stadium cheering, but a powerful wave of recognition and pride, deep and heartfelt. The cameras flashed as she appeared from the side of the stage, and the moderator stepped to the side, allowing her to go up on stage first, where she bowed to the crowd. Even if she was on home soil, it was hard to break her Korean habits. 

“Good morning, everyone,” she said with a smile after she sat down and took the microphone, thanking the moderator as they poured her a glass of water. 

And with that, the conference began. Grace spoke candidly about the tour, how she’d helped plan it with her team, and how each stop was carefully chosen. She mentioned wanting to come to Europe specifically, having been away from home for so long, and how she understood the frustration of European fans who often felt overlooked in favour of America and Asia.

Then came the questions, unfiltered and unrehearsed. None had been pre-approved. Some were from major newspapers, others from music magazines, a few from industry professionals, and even one or two from fans sitting near the back. The flow found its rhythm quickly. Some questions were sharp and insightful, others lighthearted and warm. Grace navigated each with the confidence of someone who knew herself well, but never with arrogance. She laughed when it was natural, answered thoughtfully when it mattered, and let silences speak when the weight of the topic called for it.

There were tender moments, too. One fan asked how she coped with loneliness during the group’s hiatus. Grace's honest answer left more than a few eyes glistening. Another moment brought laughter when she jokingly called Seokjin her “tour manager-slash-photographer,” complete with an exaggerated eye roll.

The atmosphere stayed electric but respectful. The press was engaged but professional. The fans, invited in small numbers, were quietly emotional, some clutching banners or wiping at their eyes as she spoke about the connection between her and ARMY as something that would “outlive noise, doubt, and even distance.”

And then it happened. An older man stood in the middle press section. His posture radiated smugness, his reputation infamous. The moderator hadn’t moved quickly enough to skip him. He didn’t even wait for a mic.

“You’ve talked a lot about your artistry today,” he began, voice heavy with condescension. “But let’s be honest, there are plenty of people who say you only made it this far because you were the only woman in BTS. That you were more of a PR decision than an actual talent. Some even suggest your relationships with certain members did more for your career than your music ever did. So really, what do you say to people who think you were just the bed warmer in the band?”

The room recoiled. A ripple of gasps spread across the venue, keyboards stopped clacking, and translators froze mid-sentence. A chair scraped sharply across the floor. From the side of the stage, Seokjin moved with deadly intent, but Hana was quicker. She caught his arm with both hands and held tight.

“Don’t,” she hissed. “She’s got this.”

Meanwhile, Sejin stepped forward fully into view, body tense, a pair of security guards flanking him now, waiting for the signal. The air was molten with tension. But Grace didn’t flinch. She picked up the mic slowly, her eyes fixed on the man like a scalpel finding its mark. Her voice was low, calm, precise, and absolutely blistering.

“Isn’t it interesting,” she said, “how no one ever questions a man’s place when he’s successful?” She paused. Not a blink. “I’ve trained, sung, danced, and worked for over a decade. I’ve helped write the music you probably downloaded. I’ve stood on stages around the world with six men who love me like a sister and one who loves me for me. None of them ever treated me like a prop or a rumour. So if you think I’m here because of anything but my own work, you’re not insulting me. You’re insulting them. And worse… you’re showing the world how little you value women.”

She leaned back slightly, letting it land. “I’m not here to be tolerated. I’m here because I belong. And if that’s too hard for you to accept… maybe you’re in the wrong industry.”

She set the mic back down. In her mind, she could practically hear Namjoon’s “mic drop.”

The room was silent, choked, stunned silence. The man who had spoken opened his mouth again, but no words came. His face reddened as Grace tilted her head, eyebrows raised in polite expectation, as if daring him to try again. He didn’t.

She’d heard this before, sexist slurs in Korean, racist barbs about her mixed heritage, snide remarks from industry insiders who never saw her as more than a supporting role. But she was done shrinking. The conference carried on, but the energy had shifted. The mood, once light and warm, now burned with secondhand embarrassment and quiet fury on Grace’s behalf. 

The conference wrapped up swiftly after that. The final questions were answered with professionalism, but the warmth had cooled, the earlier camaraderie replaced with a quiet, simmering solidarity. Grace stepped down from the table, and Sejin was already there, guiding her gently but firmly by the arm. His eyes didn’t leave the man who’d asked the question, not for a second.

There was nothing in Sejin’s expression, but everything in his posture said calm but dangerous. He leaned in briefly to one of the venue staff as they passed through the wings, his voice low but decisive. Grace didn’t have to hear what he said to know what it was.

That man would never be allowed near a HYBE event again. Not while Sejin was breathing.

The moment Grace was in Seokjin’s arms, she let out the longest breath and simply closed her eyes, pressing her face into the fabric of his jacket. No words needed to be said. There was nothing he could offer that would fix what had just happened, only the warmth of his arms and the steady presence of someone who knew her better than anyone else.

He tightened his hold around her instinctively,  one hand cradling the back of her head, the other wrapped securely around her waist. Over her shoulder, Seokjin’s eyes locked with Sejin’s, who nodded once, already on the phone.

"Yes. His credentials, publications, and full access history. I want everything flagged and pulled. Permanently." Sejin paused, voice calm but firm. "No, we won’t be issuing a statement. Grace handled it… better than any of us could’ve."

“ARMY’s already doing the digging,” Hana added, eyes fixed on her phone, thumbs flying as she scrolled. “They’ve found his Twitter. It’s… not going well for him.”

Sejin chuckled as he hung up the phone and leaned over to peek at Hana’s screen. What he saw wasn’t flattering for the reporter, but it was absolutely hilarious. HYBE’s legal team wouldn’t need to lift a finger. ARMY was already out in full force, defending the one person who had always defended them.

“Let’s head back to the hotel,” Sejin suggested, his voice softening as he glanced at Grace. “We’ll make some tea, breathe a bit. If you still feel like going out after that, we’ll figure it out.”

Grace let out a long breath and nodded. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t angry. But the disappointment sat heavy, old, familiar, and quietly exhausting. For now, all she wanted was stillness. A moment of quiet before she faced the world again.

They slipped out through the staff exit just as the last of the crowd was beginning to filter out. The drizzle had stopped, replaced by cloudy sunshine. Grace tugged her blazer tighter around her frame as Seokjin gently guided her into the waiting SUV. Sejin and Hana followed, the doors shutting behind them with a soft, sealed finality.

No one spoke for a while. The hum of the road, the muted blur of London outside, and the occasional ping from Hana’s phone filled the silence. Grace leaned into Seokjin’s side, resting her head on his shoulder while his fingers laced gently through hers in his lap. It wasn’t until they crossed back over the river, the O2 shrinking behind them, that Sejin caught her gaze in the rearview mirror.

“We can drop everything for the rest of the day, if you want,” he offered gently. “No pressure.”

Grace shook her head. “No… I want to go out. Just after a break. Tea. Maybe a nap. Then we’ll pick somewhere.”

Sejin nodded. “Done.”

Back at the hotel, the suite welcomed them with warm lighting and soft silence. Someone from the team had already sent up a tray with pastries and sandwiches. The kettle was full and freshly boiled, like someone had known exactly what she’d need.

Grace kicked off her shoes and sank into the corner of the sofa while Seokjin disappeared into the kitchenette. Within minutes, he was back, two mugs in hand and a plate filled with a little of everything. He handed her the tea first, settling beside her without a word.

For the first time all day, Grace allowed herself to truly exhale. The conference had gone well. She had handled herself, and she wasn’t about to let one man derail what was meant to be a triumphant homecoming, one that was long overdue.

Seokjin shifted beside her, holding out the plate. “Where do you fancy going for dinner?” he asked softly.

Grace reached for a sandwich, a tired but genuine smile forming on her lips.

“Somewhere good,” she said. “Somewhere that feels like a celebration.”

After lunch and a two-hour nap, and a few more cups of tea, Grace changed into something a little more relaxed, black jeans, ankle boots, a soft beige sweater and a trench coat thrown over the top. Her makeup stayed minimal, and her hair was pulled into a low, neat ponytail. Seokjin followed suit, dressing down but still looking effortlessly sharp.

They took the whole team with them, consisting of Sejin, Hana, the rest of the managers and the bodyguards. While they didn’t need the whole team, Grace wasn’t leaving anyone out who needed the moment to simply breathe and be tourists with time to kill.

The late afternoon sun had finally broken through the grey, casting a golden hue across the Thames as they drove west. First stop: Westminster.

Grace leaned toward the window as they passed the Houses of Parliament. The spires of Westminster Palace stood proud against the sky, Big Ben’s tower gleaming in the sunlight.

“I always forget how pretty this city is when it’s not soaked in rain,” she said, almost wistfully.

Seokjin smiled beside her. “I think it’s prettier with you in it.”

“Cheesy,” she muttered, but her cheeks flushed all the same.

They slowed as they passed Westminster Abbey, then turned along the edge of St James’s Park. The driver stopped long enough to let them hop out for a short walk. Grace tugged her coat tighter, the breeze sharp but not unpleasant. They strolled quietly, letting the city’s familiar rhythm wrap around them, the rustle of trees, the hum of traffic, the distant toll of bells.

They paused at the edge of the park, where Buckingham Palace loomed in the distance. Tourists snapped pictures, unaware of the two idols tucked into the shadow of a large tree while their team stood away, taking pictures of their own and admiring the park they were in. 

“You think your mum ever snuck off here when she was younger?” Seokjin asked, watching pigeons scatter as a jogger passed.

“She used to say this was her ‘daydream park’ when she was a teenager,” Grace replied. “Always thought she’d end up in a place like this, but instead she met my dad and moved halfway across the world.”

“She probably thought you’d end up doing something safer,” he joked.

“She probably still does.”

By early evening, the car was weaving through central London, the city glowing now under a sky streaked pink and lavender. Neon lights began to flicker on as they turned down the Strand, drawing to a stop just outside STK Steakhouse.

The manager greeted them personally and whisked them to a semi-private booth tucked away near the back, dimly lit and warm. The interior buzzed with low music, stylish locals, and tourists alike, but Grace felt wrapped in a bubble of calm.

They ordered steaks, sides, and a bottle of red wine, the kind of meal that told her body and soul it was allowed to rest.

“I needed this,” Grace admitted between bites. “I really did.”

Seokjin reached across the table, curling his fingers around hers. “You earned this. All of it. Even the steak.”

She laughed, reaching over to steal the steak on his fork. 

As the evening rolled on, surrounded by the team that cared for them, they let themselves be just Grace and Seokjin. Not headlines. Not stage personas. Just two people in love, in a city full of memory and meaning, building something of their own.

And across the street, tucked among flickering billboards and late buses, a few ARMY lingered, not approaching, not intruding, just smiling from a distance and letting their queen have her moment.

They wrapped up their evening with desserts and another bottle of wine, the team and them leaving the restaurant happy and content. They returned to the hotel quietly and ready for bed. Just the soft ding of the lift, the gentle hush of the penthouse hallway, and the comfort of their shared space. Grace slipped off her boots first, then leaned against the glass wall that looked over the glittering city skyline.

“Tomorrow’s full press again,” Sejin reminded them, tapping notes into his phone. “Early start. Get some sleep.”

They all nodded, the weariness catching up at last. Hana disappeared to her room. Sejin followed soon after, leaving Grace and Seokjin alone.

She changed into pyjamas and curled up on the couch beside him, a hot water bottle made and tucked up in bed to get it warmed. He handed her another cup of tea, then pulled the blanket over them both as the muted sounds of the city drifted through the window. 

By the time Grace drifted off to sleep that night, fans all across London, and far beyond, had already filled social media with candid snapshots of her day in the city. Photos taken outside the O2 showed her in front of the arena with her umbrella, laughing mid-pose, the famous dome in the background. One tweet captioned:

“She stood in the London rain like she owned it. O2 Grace era is real. #GraceInLondon”

Another fan had caught her and Seokjin walking through St. James’s Park, bundled up in coats, holding hands as they strolled beneath the trees. “Didn’t want to bother her… but seeing Grace and Seokjin just existing together in the city? I’m crying. #PowerDuo #LondonGrace”

A short clip from across the road caught Grace pausing in front of Westminster Palace, her face turned toward Big Ben, golden hour lighting her silhouette. “Grace Chu, daughter of England, standing where history stands. She is the moment. #GraceInLondon #QueenEnergy”

Even a grainy shot of her smiling at the hostess in STK Steakhouse was posted, captioned:

“She’s had a day and still shines. Hope she had the best meal ever. #GraceDeservesTheWorld”

ARMY began compiling the photos into threads, creating digital trails of where Grace had been, like breadcrumbs. Each new post added to the growing wave of love and admiration, laced with gentle reminders: don’t crowd Grace or Seokjin while they’re in the city, only share sightings once they’ve moved on.

It wasn’t just excitement. It was respect. Protection.

And the city, in its own quiet, rain-washed way, had welcomed her home.

[beardedmrbean]

“My deepest condolences to their families," an official said about the June 15 tragedy in India's Maharashtra state

NEED TO KNOW

A bridge in the Pune district of India’s Maharashtra state that has become a popular tourist hotspot collapsed on June 15

Two people have died and 32 people were injured, said Devendra Fadnavis, the chief minister of Maharashtra

One resident claimed that tourists flock to the bridge every weekend

At least two people are dead and 32 injured following a bridge collapse in India, officials said. 

The incident occurred on Sunday, June 15, over the Indrayani River in the Pune district of India’s Maharashtra state, the Associated Press, Sky News and BBC News reported. 

In a Sunday social media post, Devendra Fadnavis, the chief minister of Maharashtra, confirmed the two fatalities from the collapse. 

“My deepest condolences to their families. We share their grief in this difficult time. We stand with the bereaved families,” Fadnavis wrote. 

He also added that a search operation is underway after some people were swept away, adding that “rescue operations are being done with full speed & efforts.”

“So far, 6 people have been rescued. 32 persons are injured, including 6 in critical condition, receiving treatment at hospitals,” Fadnavis further wrote. 

The minister's post did not indicate a cause behind the incident.

Witnesses reported that several people were crossing the bridge when the collapse happened, per BBC News.

The area in the Pune district had recently seen heavy rain, the AP reported, citing the Press Trust of India. However, there was no rain at the time leading up to the incident. 

According to Indian broadcaster NDTV, the 30-year-old pedestrian bridge was originally intended for local commuting, but it has become a popular tourist destination, especially on weekends. 

"They come here in thousands,” Sagar, a local resident, told NDTV about the tourists. “On weekends, we couldn't even see the other side of the bridge because it was packed. It was always the same issue."

The office of the chief minister’s post on X stated that Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi contacted Fadnavis about the incident upon his arrival in Cyprus and “expressed deep grief over the incident.”

“He assured the state government of all possible assistance in the relief efforts,” per the office’ s statement.

The bridge collapse in Pune comes days after India has recently experienced twin aviation tragedies. On Thursday, June 12, a London-bound Air India crashed shortly after takeoff in Ahmedabad killing 241 people onboard the flight and leaving only one survivor. 

Then on Sunday, seven people were killed in a helicopter crash in the northern Indian state of Uttarakhand. The chopper was carrying visitors to several Hindu religious pilgrimage sites in the Himalayan mountains when it crashed during what would have been a 10-minute flight, per the BBC.

Poor weather conditions may have been the cause of the crash, officials said. 

[drmsss]

Yo WTH is happenin’ vro….2025 is cursed fr…..242 ppl on board…Once again it’s an Air India airplane crash after Kerala incident….It doesn’t end here … It crashed directly on BJ medical clg hostel …:////////….

Very frightenin’ and heartbreakin’….

[hc24news]

Air India Plane Crash Update: लंदन जा रही थी फ्लाइट, पूर्व मुख्यमंत्री विजय रुपाणी भी थे यात्रियों में शामिल

Air India Plane Crash Update: गुजरात के अहमदाबाद में गुरुवार (12 जून 2025) को एक भयावह विमान हादसा हुआ है. एयर इंडिया का लंदन जाने वाला बोइंग ड्रीमलाइनर 787 टेकऑफ के चंद सेकेंड बाद ही क्रैश हो गया. विमान में दो बच्चों समेत कुल 232 यात्री और 10 क्रू मेंबर सवार थे. हादसे की भयावह तस्वीरें और वीडियो सामने आए हैं, जिनमें आग की ऊंची लपटें और दूर तक उठता काला धुआं साफ देखा जा सकता है. पूर्व…

[kamalkafir-blog]

Flight carrying 242 people bound for London has crashed in Ahmedabad, India : NPR

[News] Firefighters work at the site of an airplane that crashed in India’s northwestern city of Ahmedabad in Gujarat state on Thursday. Ajit Solanki/AP hide caption toggle caption Ajit Solanki/AP MUMBAI, India — An Air India flight with 242 passengers and crew bound for London crashed shortly after departure in India’s northwestern city of Ahmedabad today. It’s not clear how many…

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 9.6 (after 1940)

1943 – The Monterrey Institute of Technology is founded in Monterrey, Mexico as one of the largest and most influential private universities in Latin America. 1943 – Pennsylvania Railroad's premier train derails at Frankford Junction in Philadelphia, killing 79 people and injuring 117 others. 1944 – World War II: The city of Ypres, Belgium is liberated by Allied forces. 1944 – World War II: Soviet forces capture the city of Tartu, Estonia. 1946 – United States Secretary of State James F. Byrnes announces that the U.S. will follow a policy of economic reconstruction in postwar Germany. 1952 – A prototype aircraft crashes at the Farnborough Airshow in Hampshire, England, killing 29 spectators and the two on board. 1955 – Istanbul's Greek, Jewish, and Armenian minorities are the target of a government-sponsored pogrom; dozens are killed in ensuing riots. 1962 – The United States government begins the Exercise Spade Fork nuclear readiness drill. 1962 – Archaeologist Peter Marsden discovers the first of the Blackfriars Ships dating back to the second century AD in the Blackfriars area of the banks of the River Thames in London. 1965 – India retaliates following Pakistan's Operation Grand Slam which results in the Indo-Pakistani War of 1965 that ends in a stalemate followed by the signing of the Tashkent Declaration. 1966 – Prime Minister Hendrik Verwoerd, the architect of apartheid, is stabbed to death in Cape Town, South Africa during a parliamentary meeting. 1968 – Swaziland becomes independent. 1970 – Two passenger jets bound from Europe to New York are simultaneously hijacked by Palestinian terrorist members of the PFLP and taken to Dawson's Field, Jordan. 1971 – Paninternational Flight 112 crashes on the Bundesautobahn 7 highway near Hamburg Airport, in Hamburg, Germany, killing 22. 1972 – Munich massacre: Nine Israeli athletes die (along with a German policeman) at the hands of the Palestinian "Black September" terrorist group after being taken hostage at the Munich Olympic Games. Two other Israeli athletes were slain in the initial attack the previous day. 1976 – Cold War: Soviet Air Defence Forces pilot Viktor Belenko lands a Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-25 jet fighter at Hakodate in Japan and requests political asylum in the United States; his request is granted. 1983 – The Soviet Union admits to shooting down Korean Air Lines Flight 007, stating that its operatives did not know that it was a civilian aircraft when it reportedly violated Soviet airspace. 1985 – Midwest Express Airlines Flight 105 crashes near Milwaukee Mitchell International Airport in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, killing all 31 people on board. 1991 – The Soviet Union recognizes the independence of the Baltic states Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. 1991 – The Russian parliament approves the name change of Leningrad back to Saint Petersburg. The change is effective October 1. 1995 – Cal Ripken Jr. of the Baltimore Orioles plays in his 2,131st consecutive game, breaking a record that had stood for 56 years. 1997 – The Funeral of Diana, Princess of Wales takes place in London. Well over a million people lined the streets and 21⁄2 billion watched around the world on television. 2003 – Mahmoud Abbas resigns from his position of Palestinian Prime Minister. 2007 – Israel executes the air strike Operation Orchard to destroy a nuclear reactor in Syria. 2013 – Forty-one elephants are poisoned with cyanide in salt pans, by poachers in Hwange National Park. 2018 – Supreme Court of India decriminalised all consensual sex among adults in private, making homosexuality legal on the Indian lands. 2022 – Boris Johnson resigns as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, and is replaced by Liz Truss. Their meetings with Queen Elizabeth II at Balmoral Castle were the Queen's final official duties before her death two days later. 2022 – Russo-Ukrainian War: Ukraine begins its Kharkiv counteroffensive, surprising Russian forces and retaking over 3,000 square kilometers of land, recapturing the entire Kharkiv Oblast west of the Oskil River, within the next week.

[feckcops]

Britain’s great tax con

“Labour will soon face an inescapable choice. In order to spend money in government, the party will need to raise it. There is a very good way to do that. It is to shift the tax burden away from labour and on to capital, away from work and on to wealth ...

“Starmer and Reeves are following an electoral script written for a different era. Britain has been transformed since Labour won in 1997. One part of the country has lived through an asset boom. The other is living on wages that have not risen in real terms for 15 years, since before the 2008 financial crash. For those with assets, the crash is a distant memory. London house prices have risen inexorably since 2010, by 31 per cent after inflation. The FTSE 100 is 58 per cent higher after dividends. Real average weekly pay is, meanwhile, no higher today than in July 2006. Those who live in Asset Britain have no idea what Austerity Britain is like.

“Labour is ignoring wealth at its peril. Reeves is rejecting the most consequential tax reforms open to her, despite polling that suggests each reform she has ruled out would be highly popular. They are also vital. Britain’s growth rate is in a multi-decade decline, while wealth inequality has become entrenched. It hasn’t fallen in the 17 years the Office for National Statistics has recorded it. Every year you can expect £4 in every £10 of new wealth to go to the wealthiest 10 per cent, while £1 in £10 is shared by the bottom half. In ­stagnant societies, capital reigns ...

“There is one more major reform Labour is refusing to adopt: a tax on the very richest ... The only way to raise money from the very richest is to charge a wealth tax, as Labour once won an election promising to do. A tax of 1 per cent on wealth over £10m would fall on around 20,000 people – the 0.1 per cent. In the 1970s Healey thought the revenues on offer didn’t justify the cost. Advani’s research has, however, shown that a one-off version of the tax could today raise £11bn. He estimates capital flight would be rare, as it was for non-doms. And evasion is less possible than people think. The wealth of the very richest is boundless yet bound in by Britain. Land may be leased out but it cannot be moved. Estates can always be taxed. It is a political choice.

“Labour has never fought against capitalism. It once sought to alleviate its inequities through control of the commanding heights of industry. Now it risks governing without a creed. Yet one is on offer. In Britain the rules of the tax game have been stacked against working people. The question for Labour is simple and deafening: are you going to fix that or not?”

[geezliberia]

Australian Aviation Expert Claims Air India Crash Was “Intentional Action” by Pilot

A leading Australian aviation expert has weighed in on the deadly Air India crash that shook the aviation world last month, claiming that the Pilot of the ill-fated flight may have intentionally shut down the aircraft’s fuel supply. On June 12, Air India Flight 171, a Boeing 787-8 Dreamliner bound for London’s Gatwick Airport, crashed into a residential building in Ahmedabad just moments after…

[go-21newstv]

A Second-by-Second Timeline of How Air Indias Dreamliner Flight Ended in Disaster

New Delhi, Jul 12 (PTI) London-bound Air India flight AI171 crashed 32 seconds after takeoff from Ahmedabad on June 12, after fuel supply to both engines was cut off within a second of each other. A preliminary report found that the confused pilots were unable to restore thrust in time. Here is a look at the sequence of events leading to the deadly crash: 11:17 Hrs IST: Air India Dreamliner…