Safe at your desk

The endless runner that ate mobile gaming, in a browser tab with the trains, the hoverboards and the shouting guard intact.

Clean daily sudoku across five difficulties, with a notes mode that behaves the way a pencil is supposed to.

Drop fruit into a box, merge matching pairs and watch the pile creep towards the line. Physics does the rest of the work.

Good news, funny pictures and a daily dose of animals, assembled with no interest whatsoever in what is trending.

Tick off what is genuinely in your cupboards and it ranks the recipes you can make right now, with nothing missing.

The seven-day jam build where time only moves when you do, still free in the browser and still one of the decade's best ideas.

Real-time First World War grand strategy played over weeks against dozens of other people, most of whom will lie to you.

The community revival of surviv.io, the sharp little 2D battle royale that was shut down and flatly refused to stay dead.

Breed meat, then drones, then queens, then things with far too many legs. The exponential curve is the entire narrative.

Ascending through increasingly abstract mathematics, with a community that treats optimising it as a competitive spreadsheet sport.

Board games rendered as physical objects on a 3D table with no rules enforcement, so you can still play badly like at home.

Base building with tameable pets, farming and raids, which is a lot of systems for something that loads instantly.

World atlas of traditional dishes and the specific places that still make them properly. Endless, and reliably makes you hungry.

Name something you liked and it returns things with the same texture, spanning films, books, music and games at once.

A collaborative database of example sentences translated across languages, better than any dictionary for context.

Train an image or sound classifier from your own webcam in about three minutes, no code involved. The clearest explanation of machine learning built.

Non-commercial web search indexing only pages carrying no ads or trackers at all. A very small and very different internet.

Sprint away from a large monkey along a crumbling temple path, dying at the same badly signposted corner every time.

The other GIF keyboard, with better tagging for reaction clips and a sticker library your phone already quietly uses.

Graded summaries of the terms you agreed to without reading, with the specific alarming clause quoted. Volunteer-run since 2012.

Hundreds of players carve up a real world map using one attack slider. Diplomacy emerges in the chat within ninety seconds.

Competitive multiplayer stacking with modern rules and opponents who will finesse you into the floor within ninety seconds.

The official browser Tetris, marathon mode included, so you can settle the argument about whether you are still any good.

One click copies the Lenny face, the shrug or the look of disapproval to your clipboard, correctly escaped.

Type a word, pick from several hundred FIGlet fonts, and get the enormous ASCII banner your terminal deserves.

Converts an uploaded photograph into ASCII, HTML or coloured text art, with the character density under your control.

Thousands of browser-playable parser and choice games, plus Quest, the authoring tool most of them were written in.

Everything people typed at each other on bulletin board systems before the web existed, preserved as plain text and left open.

A personality test that assigns you one of forty-odd animals, with write-ups considerably sharper than the premise deserves.

Daily edit of objects, gear and short videos picked by somebody with taste and no obvious interest in sponsorship.

Satire from a conservative and Christian angle, useful mainly as a read on what the other newsroom finds absurd.

Wiki for an infinite office nobody built, mapped level by level in damp yellow carpet by contributors who take it extremely seriously.

Canadian satire that assumes you follow Canadian politics, and rewards you handsomely if you happen to.

Australia's oldest newspaper, filed from a town with no remaining population, covering the nation with dead-eyed accuracy.

Teaches the pen tool by making you trace shapes with the fewest possible anchor points. Level nine is genuinely cruel.

Millions of pages of declassified government documents prised out by freedom of information requests, free to browse.

The gentle way into fragment shaders, with every example editable in the page and redrawing itself as you type.

Combine shapes with union, subtract and intersect to hit a target silhouette in as few operations as you can manage.

One button, escalating nonsense, and no way onward except pressing it again. Works on a phone, which is the danger.

One large red button and a clear instruction not to press it. It gets increasingly personal about the fact that you keep pressing it.

Sweet wrappers collected and annotated for decades, arranged by how well the graphic design has survived contact with the present.

Profiles of thousands of American cold case disappearances, written and maintained by one person for decades.

The Australian team that built a career on television stunts, still publishing headlines that get them into trouble.

Every component you might need to build, with links to how twenty different design systems each named and handled it.

British satire in short bitter columns, mostly concerning the middle classes and the people who irritate them.

A reference of every chart type and what each is genuinely for, worth reading before defaulting to a bar chart.

Scroll from the surface to the bottom of the Mariana Trench, meeting every creature at the depth it actually lives.

A volunteer register of unidentified remains and missing people, matched by amateurs who keep on succeeding.