From Your pal, Crutchie ( Crutchie x reader ) complete

Prologue

The date was d/o/b 1875 when Y/N was born. Born the a couple who never prepared for this kind of thing, after all they weren't married. The couple met at a local bar,  one thing lead to another and nine months later Y/N was on the sense.
Unfortunately her mother died of complications at child birth, which left Y/N with her father. A father who cared enough to take care of her instead of leaving her to become a nun, ( by the way I don't hate nuns) but not enough to stop old habits or even really be around.
Some people would complain or say that it effected their childhood not having parents around, but Y/N could honestly care less.
Y/N always lacked some emotion. Blame it on the upbringing or the alcohol her mother had when she was pregnant, but it was just how things were.
Now Y/N wasn't heartless, far from it. She just didn't take compliments, sympathy, sorries, or secondhand sorrows from others.
Life circled as normal as it could until Y/N turned 10. Y/N's father was a gambler on top of being a smoker and a drunk.
One night he went out gambling and got a small gang of thugs angry after winning a large sum of money. To make a long story short, he was accused of cheating, beat up, and left to die. By morning light Y/N's dad had already arisen  to kingdom come, or defended to the pits below no one was quite sure where he ended up.
Y/N didn't even know about her father's passing until she heard from a friend of his.
Y/N was slightly shaken and saddened, hell she might have even shed a few tears in the moment, but moved on quite quickly. Was that a bad thing? Should she have cared more about his passing? Y/N didn't know, but tried not to think to much about she had to start thinking about how she was going to stay alive.
She could become a nun, no to constricting. She could be one of the girls who sold flowers, but nothing about that seemed even close to appealing. Then it hit her one day as she walked along the old New York sidewalks. She saw a boy waving a newspaper in the air. Yelling some made up, but half true headline.
That was it! A newsboy! Newsgirl? Newsie.
Upon this newfound realization she found the
Lodging centre and became a self proclaimed Newsie. Despite the looks and the missing newsboy cap things were great for her, not only that but one of the newsies took her under his wing. His real name was Kevin but everyone called him Rusty due to his old copper dog tags that hung around his neck.
Kevin, or Rusty had a tall stature towering over the little Y/N, kind brown eyes and scruffy, messy brown hair. He wore the typical newsboy's cap, but it was slightly turned to the side. Blondish brown trousers and a grey plaid shirt, and a brown vest to match, with old worn out shoes. Yeah he fit the bill.
Rusty was a means of support and protection for Y/N, keeping the Delancey's far from her and giving the best advice on how to sell papers.
Years passed and Y/N grew up, become a decently nice looking girl, at least in her eyes. Not really a looker. No newsie really was, but not bad looking either. Then 1889 rolled around and the strike came about. Y/N decided to join along, maybe not as prevalent, but still there. She went to the rallies, but stayed back at the centre when all hell broke loose. (when Crutchie got dragged away.) On account of the fact that she was sick.
Now it's 1890, Y/N is 18 and everything is back to normal, or is it? I guess it wouldn't be a good story if something didn't happen, am I right?

Wow this chapter is trash. Welp I'm still publishing it (obviously or else you wouldn't see this) thanks for reading anyways. I appreciate it.
Now go and seize the day! Or night, or afternoon. You know, go and seize whatever time of day it is.
The author