Proton found himself receiving gifts, letters, and cards almost every day from someone anonymous. These weren't just regular gifts and letters, mind you. These letters contained the senders' confessions of love and adoration for him.

It was flattering, yet creepy as fuck. He knew he was popular and attractive, but he didn't think someone could like him this much.

Even when he was at the Team Rocket base, packages and letters would still arrive. It was like the sender knew his entire schedule. It seemed as if he had a stalker.

Proton didn't bother to tell anyone about it--especially not the police. A Team Rocket executive going to the police? Hell no.

The letters and gifts weren't really threatening, anyway. They mainly contained how much the sender loved him, wanted to be with him, and what they wanted to do with him--they never went into specifics on the sexual parts, though.

Here he was at his apartment doorstep, staring at yet another package wrapped in heart patterned wrapping paper. The second one today.

He glanced around for a moment, seeing if he could find any trace of who left it before letting out a sigh, running his fingers through his hair before returning inside with the gift.