73 books like Mister Miracle

This one has messy right in the title! Freddy keeps getting dumped by Laura Dean over and over. She gets so blinded by her “love” for Laura Dean that she takes her friends for granted. It’s a classic story with an LGBT+ twist. Part of what makes it stand out is the beautiful visual storytelling. I actually learned a lot from this one, as it’s quite different from the superhero comics I grew up with. There are moments in here where two hands will say a thousand words. 

Not for the kids, but a great laugh for the adults–this book is about two people who stop time when they orgasm. They decide to use this power to rob a bank so they can save the local library with the funds. But like all the books on this list, this is actually a story about relationships.

This one comes with a heavy dose of comedy…inappropriate, sexytime comedy. But there are also very relatable, heartbreaking moments where the characters grapple with their own sexuality and how it’s affected their lives and relationships. Just a great time and filled with visual gags from Zdarsky. And don’t skip the letters column!

Galaxy, also known as Taylor Barzelay, is an alien princess hiding on Earth. But to stay safe, she’s disguised as a human boy. As she struggles in a body that is not her own, she falls for a new girl in school. The relationship in this one is actually incredibly lovely.

Taylor and Kat’s romance feels like a warm blanket, and I love every minute of their teenage girl banter. What makes it messy is Taylor’s need to hide who she is for the safety of her alien family. Can she and Kat ever be together openly and honestly? Jess Taylor's vibrant colors and bold art make this a visual masterpiece. 

I love a slow-burn romance, and that is exactly what this is. Originally a webcomic, it runs at a more leisurely pace, allowing the characters to really have time to develop. A classic enemies-to-lovers, the story follows Cort and Ian, two teens at the same school who have to learn to let their guards down and be vulnerable to each other. If you loved Heartstopper but want something a bit more adult, this is the one for you. 

Dreadnought is a fantastic story about a young trans girl who inherits the powers of the most powerful superhero in the world.

Like Captain Marvel, it bestows upon her the looks of her idealized form. Unfortunately, this goes over like a ton of bricks with her family that she hadn't revealed herself to. The coming-of-age drama doesn't take a back seat to the superheroics, though, and I absolutely love the characters created by the author. 

David Charleston’s character resonated with me. He’s eccentric, passionate, and meticulous, while also being a great friend.

He’s also out for revenge against his father’s killer—A supervillain named Steelheart who has taken over Chicago. David unites with a secret group of people called the Reckoners who are trying to learn each villain's weakness to assassinate them.

David’s obsession with details is relatable, and against the terrifying powers of these supervillains, you're left on the edge of your seat hoping the Reckoner's schemes will be enough.

I’m recommending this book for how delightfully it considers the ill human body as a site of new possibilities. The Doom Patrol have never been well-known superheroes, perhaps because of the willingness of writers to confront the bodily trauma at the heart of their stories.

Morrison’s contribution to the series was to consider the Doom Patrol truly as freaks: people who could not fit into a society that demands gender, mental, and physical homogeneity. Mixing allegorical forms of illness—Cliff “Robotman” Steele’s fallible technological body—with more direct conditions like Kaye “Crazy Jane” Callis’ dissociative identity disorder.

Morrison, along with artistic collaborators, built a celebration of difference into a genre where most heroic bodies never break the mold.

Deadpool is superhero comics', and perhaps literature in general’s, most consistently challenging fictional engagement with cancer. Deadpool’s healing factor prevents his cancer from ever being cured, which traps him in a never-ending cycle of remission and relapse.

Unlike a superhero who responds to a bodily transformation by self-sacrificingly upholding the status quo, Deadpool is a mercenary and anti-hero. In this collection, writer Joe Kelly creates much of the narrative infrastructure that eventually made the character one of Marvel’s most popular.

Kelly also crafts a story where Deadpool is offered a heroic transformation that—through personal weakness, history, bad luck, and supervillainous interference—tragically fails. This book establishes the template for Deadpool stories and digs into Deadpool’s cancer for the first time.

Rafter, Benny, and Juanita protagonate (yep, that’s a word) in a bizarre amalgamated world that could have been dreamed up by Stan Lee, the Andy Griffith Show writers, and Beverly Cleary. Dreamed up as a joke. Abandoned with a good comeraderific laugh (also a word). Then picked up, dusted off, and polished by Marion Jensen. But that’s not what happened. Jensen created the whole adventurous, hilarious, uplifting, good-buddy superhero story with his own solitary brain. My kids and I have laughed at his story many times.

This book contains a rare examination of HIV/AIDS in superhero comics. It’s much more likely a superhero story will deal with HIV/AIDS allegorically (see the recommendation above!) than directly.

Given the Hulk’s own fears about his blood contaminating his loved ones (his cousin Jennifer Walters became the She-Hulk after a transfusion of his blood), he is uniquely sympathetic to the illness of a friend who contracts HIV. As longtime Hulk writer David advances subplots (at this point, Bruce Banner and the Hulk have merged into a more-or-less well-adjusted form of the famous giant green rage monster), he builds space to linger on character details.

David himself has struggled with health issues in recent years, and this comic is also a reminder of one of the genre’s great writers.