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The open-source Pokemon idle remake: every region, 1,400+ species, one very legal grey area handled with care.

Tap the titan, level the Sword Master, prestige the clan: the mobile clicker that made idle mainstream.

Berzerk's lovable necromancy smash-em-up: smash, loot, build the bonfire, REMONSTER everything.

The archetypal idle game: buy a lemonade stand, hire managers, reset for angels, and watch the numbers grow digits until they stop meaning money.

Ten useless heroes, one idle RPG, and the slow march toward almost mattering.

Minecraft meets Cookie Clicker: a Stone Age crafting incremental by two brothers.

A strategic incremental about feeding dwarves to a mountain, and the logistics of getting the gold back out.

A dice-rolled idle RPG where every landed hit drops gold and a mystery skill tree decides who your hero becomes.

A co-op desktop idler about patting fish to maturity with friends, then netting them into a shared aquarium.

Aliens invade, you click back: ZakosGames' 2014 defense incremental, Steam-published later.

Help a charming cat run his packaging shop: tap, hire assistants and decorate the coziest little store.

A loot clicker where the monsters never fight back. Only the numbers do.

Sneaker Tap is second version of idle game about your sneakers

A 48-hour Ludum Dare 32 hack-and-cyberwar clicker: hire sysadmins, trolls, black hats and developers.

A clicker RPG where the hardcore mode means it: one life, and death deletes everything.

Eat or be eaten in a petri dish: the agar.io-style cell MMO with clans and a Windows client.

Feed the piggies, fill the truck, and collect a snowglobe full of absurd pig breeds.

Nine species of procedurally-loved pixel pets: Jake Trower's complete HTML5 clicker.

Click the giant pizza, buy 21 toppings, earn 13 achievements: Indie Boy's HTML5 pizzeria.

A 2011 Cookie Clicker clone with the SWF still hosted: click the pizza, collect every five seconds.

A garden that grows while you are elsewhere. The 2016 clicker that made doing nothing feel like horticulture, now with a sequel and a decade of goodwill.

Click the poop, hire the Baby, chase the Golden Poop: the toilet-humor clicker at its purist.

Stranded in alien space, you mine asteroid belts and rebuild the Argo before the swarm closes in.

Oswald the furious dwarf chops dandelions, bamboo and Fort Knox safes in pursuit of his golden axe.

Tap bubbles into cash, spend it on trendy clothes, and become the most stylish bubble magnate alive.

Tap a small rabbit toward a business empire: coins, mini-games, quests and a very long road to bunny riches.

A giant cartoon capybara, a population counter and a weather system: the cozy rodent clicker that knows exactly how deep it is.

Tap a carrot, hire farm hands, and let the carrots-per-second curve do the heavy lifting.

Tap fast before the starting gun, then let your acceleration carry you past the record.

Tap your way through thousands of race stages, build a pit crew and prestige your garage into legend.

Tap the crumb you found between the couch cushions. It will evolve. It will judge you.

Dig a bunker, fill it with mutants, press the big red button and profit from the end of the world.

Tap a colony of festive elves into baking glory, from flour and butter to chocolate-rain fever mode.

Tap titans into paste, hire a hero roster and ride the exponential wave: a 2014 clicker time capsule.

An army of ancient proto-monsters, two thousand levels and one very tired tapping finger.

Tap for startup capital, ride a simplified stock market and cash it all in for yachts and supercars.

Tap to catch fish, dodge the bombs, and chase your own high score in a pocket aquarium.

Double-tap the foenem button, game the Stonk Market and expand to a Section 8 space station: a meme with math.

Smash ore, merge conveyors and mine your way through a dwarf-run canyon of crystals.

A retro pixel-art zombie apocalypse where you tap to shoot, craft guns and hold the line, fully offline.

A nostalgic hack-and-slash idle: tap the waves, hoard chest boosts and chase the super evolution.

From an empty pier to a forest of cranes: tap your way into the shipping business, one boat at a time.

Hold the screen, watch paper money flow: a fidget toy wearing a clicker's clothes.

Cultivate your inner strength, deploy sword spirits and awaken runes: a xianxia-flavored tapping loop.

Tap-powered brawls, a gacha support crew and a boss every ten stages: detention as an idle game.

Tralalero Tralala, Bombardino Crocodilo and a shark in sneakers: the meme clicker where the internet's favourite nonsense is the reward.

Develop the junkyard with new machinery and appliances

A full QWERTY in your palm: tap keys, build combos and chase Keys Per Second on glass.

Feed the queen cat, hire feline helpers and watch the coins pile up: pure 2014 comfort-clicking.

From one backyard lemon to dragonfruit factories: squeeze Juice, fill the hopper, ascend.

Swipe until cash rains, buy the skyline, and climb a Rich List that hands out real-world prizes.

Drop marbles, merge them into prettier marbles and let the ASMR economy hum in the background.

Can you defeat the mob? The listing asks. The answer, as ever, is tapping.

Tap the bill, hire the managers, break your first million: the cash loop stripped to its happy bones.

Recruit monsters, build your party formation and reincarnate your way through an ancient treasure hunt.

Tap through planets, squash lucky earthworms and Big Bang your dig site for exponential miners.

Dig through Earth, the Moon and Mars with a dog named Rocky and eleven other helpers swinging for you.

Pedal a bicycle from city streets to cosmic distances: speed, stamina and one very long ride.

Zombie crews dig haunted graves, you merge the miners, and seventy spooky episodes of gold follow.

Unemployed at thirty, armed with a magical dog named Doug: stomp trash, compact it, and get paid by the government.

A treasure-chest tapper from a solo developer, cataloged with more questions than answers.

Tap a turkey, harvest drumsticks, and roast your way up the global leaderboard.

Two buttons, one quadrillion: add a temporary +1 or double everything forever.

A clicker where the boss is the health bar itself, and it heals out of spite.

Pick berries off an infinitely upgradeable bush, hire garden gnomes, and fire the harvest out of a cannon.

A satirical clicker about exploiting cute animal desk workers, firing managers before payday, and fighting the unholy idea of labour rights.

A web hit about swiping a grid instead of clicking a button, rebuilt for Steam with all its rough edges intact.

An endless dungeon clicker where the clicker heals the clicked, and every rebirth reshuffles your skills.

Click the block, watch coins fly, and let the tube network deliver idle income to your doorstep.

Click the hammer and sickle, trade stonks, mine dogecoin, and definitely do not visit the secret black market.

A chemistry-led clicker that walks from monoatomic hydrogen to artificial intelligence, one unlock at a time.

An idle clicker built on the Drake Equation and the Great Filter, where civilizations rise, stall and filter themselves out while you watch.

A gentle underground fishery where rare fish mutate into profit and treasure comes up on the line.

A hamster. A button. Click click click.

Cookie Clicker, but the cookie is an ever-multiplying sea of chili sauce, from home kitchen to antimatter.

Rebuild the flood-hit village of Anywhere one click at a time, then let idle production finish the job.

A cat feeder escalated until the cat is the size of the room, and the staff is the size of your tab.

A free clicker about collecting letters of the alphabet on patient, multi-hour timers.

One button. One million clicks. No upgrades, no automation, no mercy.

A dungeon crawler with the map sanded down to squares: tap the monster, take the loot, mind your gold.

Kill monsters, buff the monsters, kill them again: a clicker where your enemies' gains are your gains.

A small, polished clicker about destroying ducks, converting the survivors into souls, and rebirthing into duck-master tiers.

Start at 0.000000001, finish at one billion, and be done with it.

Click for coins, renovate a cat kingdom, and bonk the occasional invading mouse: a cute, compact idle with real purrs.

Click on a stone, get a stone. That is the whole pitch, and it keeps its word.

A satirical nuke-the-virus clicker with an economy to balance and, remarkably, an ending.

Tap the wooden fish, farm merit, and become a Buddha on an idle progress bar.

A satirical idle clicker about replacing every job on Earth with AI, one agent.exe click at a time.

Shoot blobs in orbit around a Zodiac star, harvest their essences, build a drone fleet, and become an immortal space god in a weekend. A finished incremental, not an infinite one.

An immortal stick figure made of dark matter and ketchup exists only to be destroyed. You have 28 weapons, a potato-shaped portal device, and questionable priorities.

An idle game with one goal, collect L O G, and the strangest recruitment pipeline in the genre: squirrels, school field trips and tamed fungi.

A cat-flipping idle economy in a cozy trench coat: adopt, chonkify, sell by the kilo.

A multiplayer incremental where the chatroom is the dungeon. Mostly Positive historically, but the community that made it work has largely moved on.

Heads or tails, forever: a micro-budget incremental that reduces the entire genre to one binary outcome.

A coffee-shop incremental sold for the price of coffee and finished in an afternoon: 36 recipes, 9 expansions, one New Roast reset.

Clicker Heroes meets monster collecting, in an Early Access build that has been Early Access since 2017.