The Summer We Fell In Love With Black Cat Boyfriends

For the last few years, the internet has been wagging its tail at one very specific male archetype: the golden retriever boyfriend. You know the type—sunny disposition, emotionally available, the human version of “yes, babe.” He’s the guy who shows up with your coffee order memorised, beams at your mediocre jokes, and radiates the kind of warmth that makes parents say “he’s a keeper.” Perfect, right?

But the internet has finally admitted what some of us suspected all along: golden retriever boyfriends are exhausting. After years of men tripping over themselves to prove how wholesome they are, culture is craving something with more bite.

Broody, mysterious, emotionally complex, sometimes infuriating—but always magnetic. He doesn’t beam at your bad puns; he smirks. He doesn’t orbit you like you’re the sun; he has his own orbit, and you’re lucky enough to be invited in.

This is the era of black cat boyfriends.

The Summer Of The Brooder

Look at this summer’s obsession with Conrad Fisher from The Summer I Turned Pretty. He’s not golden retriever Jeremiah, all open smiles and frat boy affection. Conrad is closed-off, complicated, burdened—yet fiercely loyal. Fans didn’t just sympathise with him, they literally turned Chris Briney (the actor who plays him) into a generational crush. That’s not puppy love—that’s black cat energy dominating all our timelines.

It’s certainly not a new archetype. Jess Mariano (Gilmore Girls), Ryan Atwood (The O.C.), Chuck Bass (Gossip Girl). We’ve been here before. But in 2025, the black cat boyfriend feels less more like a necessary correction. For too long, men have had two lanes: alpha chest-thumper or golden retriever simp. Both are suffocating. Both lack texture.

Black cats give us complexity.

After years of internet discourse about gaslighting, ghosting, and love bombing, audiences are gravitating toward men who may be broody or difficult but are also willing to confront their emotions. They apologise. They go to therapy. They let you see the cracks in the armour. In a culture still suspicious of male vulnerability, that feels quiet... groundbreaking.

Masculinity, Reset

At its core, the rise of the black cat boyfriend is about masculinity loosening its chokehold. The black cat model—vulnerable, self-aware, occasionally difficult—feels more human.

Watching Bad Bunny cry on stage earlier this year went viral not because it was shocking, but because it felt overdue. Men showing emotion—messy, inconvenient, un-Instagrammable emotion—isn’t weakness; it’s humanity.

That’s the black cat boyfriend’s secret: the smirk hides sincerity. The silence hides care. The walls, once breached, don’t reveal a hollow man—they reveal someone actually worth staying for.

So, Are You One?

If you text back three hours later not because you’re playing games but because you were genuinely lost in a book, if your “I love yous” arrive rarely but land like gospel, if you’re more comfortable showing care in small, precise gestures than in fireworks—you might be part of the new era.

And maybe the culture is ready for you. After years of loud, eager-to-please sunshine, we’re finally admitting that love doesn’t need to be all tail wags and fetch. Sometimes it’s the slow blink of trust. Sometimes it’s Conrad Fisher wordlessly carrying the weight of his entire family while loving quietly from the sidelines.

Golden retrievers will always have their place. But 2025 is the year of the black cat boyfriend. And honestly? The tween in me loves it.