I love good smut. Emphasis on “good;” I do have standards. And I will say it loudly because I’m tired of the eye-roll at the pretty pink paperback in my hands.

Romantic comedies — or what are commonly referred to as rom-coms, usually follow a storyline of two love interests who somehow get flown into each other’s lives. There are quite a bit of bad jokes, predictable plot lines and characters that make you feel like you have a Ph.D. in psychology because you can read them so well. Oh, and of course, sexual tension.

The issue though with reading anything in the genre is not the predictability or cringing at every use of “sheath.” It’s the stigma around the lighthearted material.

The stigma that usually follows these books is that they are just borderline porn or that they’re “girly” and stupid. Gone are the days to enjoy happy endings, it seems.

There are so many readers who will hide their books or feel ashamed for saying they like the genre, because as soon as they do they are told they “aren’t a real reader” or are boring.

Yes, the writing may not be the best. Yes, the plot may suck. Yes, there are bad ones. But after you find what you like and the niche that gets to you, they are pretty fun and easy. And that’s the joy too, they’re easy.

What I love about rom-coms is the outright and blatant predictability. From the first two chapters, you know exactly how the book is going to go and what you are in for. They’re also just annoyingly sweet and full of bad jokes, so bad that you can’t not laugh.

There is almost a sense of home and comfort with a good lighthearted and predictable book. I don’t know about you, but being a college senior who has no idea where my own life is going, the comfort and ridiculousness of someone else’s chaos is so much more enjoyable than my own.

Rom-coms may never be your thing, and that’s OK. But if you see me reading a bright pink book with a couple madly and disgustingly in love on the front cover, mind your own business.