Sweet Tooth is Netflix’s latest gem, based on DC comic. It’s set in a post-apocalyptic mess. Gus, part deer, goes on a quest to learn about his roots and that pesky virus ruining everything. He teams up with Jeppard, a gruff loner. Together, they face danger and chaos. Who knew bonding could be so risky?

Meet the characters from Sweet Tooth

Tommy Jepperd

Jepperd is the big, gruff guardian type with a past like a tattoo you can’t quite read — equal parts tender and terrifying. He’s the muscle who hums old rock songs under his breath and talks to Gus like he’s the most fragile thing in the world. There’s this ex-hunter/mercenary vibe but he’s got rules and a soft spot that sneaks up on you (and honestly on him too). He’s haunted, heroic, blunt, and somehow clumsy about feelings — watches sunsets and will absolutely break your jaw if you ask. Also, I swear he keeps a ridiculous collection of mismatched socks? Not sure where that came from but it fits him.

Gus

Gus is a tiny deer-boy who wears hope like a hoodie — bright, curious, and heartbreakingly earnest. He loves music, sweets, and asking too many questions (of everyone, forever), which is both his superpower and his danger. There’s an almost childlike wisdom there that will blindside you; he forgives too quickly sometimes and is stubborn in the cutest way. Also he collects pebbles? Or badges? Memory fuzzy — point is, he’s adorably inconsistent and you love him for it.

Bear

Bear is the grizzled, tattooed protector whose silence says more than whole monologues. He’s big, practical, maybe into woodworking? — definitely has rules, a quiet moral code, and a weird fondness for animals (duh, he named a pet something ridiculous once). He can be stoic to the point of myth but will also melt into soft-caretaker mode in front of kids, which is honestly the best contrast. He’s a rock, a refugee of pain, and the kind of person who shows love by fixing things and making sure you eat.

Aimee

Aimee is chaotic and theatrical and kind of a walking show — think sparkly, loud, with a surprising hurricane of loyalty underneath. She flirts with danger like it’s a hobby and gives the best speeches at the worst possible moments (like a rally cry and a punchline rolled into one). She’s protective in wild, dramatic ways and also suspiciously good at improvising dinner from nothing, which is a skill I respect deeply. Sometimes she’s reckless, sometimes she’s tender, and she oscillates in ways that make you want to clap and check on her at the same time. Also she smells faintly of oranges? Or citrus? Might be a metaphor, might be actual perfume — probably both.

Rani Singh

Rani is the brainy, driven scientist type — sharp, obsessed, and always calculating three steps ahead even when she says she’s not. She cares about the bigger picture (virology, epidemiology, whatever-the-terminology-is), but that single-mindedness makes her seem cold, which is unfair because she’s human underneath. She keeps notebooks, labeled and color-coded, and has this tiny ritual of tapping her pen when she’s thinking, which I now notice every time. There’s a moral tightrope she walks — she wants to save people but sometimes sacrifices small things that feel huge to others. I’m pretty sure she has a surprising love for bad daytime soaps? Don’t ask me why my brain conjures that, but it’s cute and contradictory.

Wendy

Wendy is scrappy, sharp-tongued, and somehow always three steps ahead of a plan you didn’t even know you needed. She’s the kind of friend who will roast you and then bring you soup at midnight, which is peak practical affection. There’s a guarded side — she jokes a lot to keep things light — and she hoards useful junk like a squirrel, which has saved the group more than once. She’s fiercely loyal, suspicious of big promises, and absolutely the person you want in a fight and a bake-off, though maybe not at the same time.