Three loaders made of liquid in whatever colour you like: a comet of drops that stretches and gathers, a bead that drips into a pool, and a dot that splits and flows back together.
Inside its card the pointer becomes a drop of liquid with a short trail; hover a link or button and the drop pours itself into that shape, then pinches free when you move on.
A round action button that squeezes out its actions as droplets: each one stretches away, pinches off into its own button and gets drawn back in when you close it, with labels as tooltips and full keyboard support.
Progress you can watch fill up: a stream pours in from the top, the surface sloshes and settles as the level eases to the value, and hitting 100% sends out a small ripple. Comes as a round vessel or a slim bar.
Digits that turn like a real counter: every place rolls the way the number moved, so 9 ticks over to 0 instead of spinning back, and it counts up the first time you scroll to it.
Built withCO
coss ui
The kit every devl component is built on — Base UI + Tailwind, copy-paste, open source.
A split-flap countdown where each changed digit's top flap falls away under gravity, darkening as it turns, and the new lower flap lands with one small rebound.
Text that decodes from random glyphs into the real words, sweeping left to right on view, on hover or on demand, with a monospace variant for codes and labels.
Types a phrase with a human rhythm, holds it long enough to read, then backspaces or selects it away and moves on; the caret only blinks while it waits.
A marker pen that sweeps behind your words one line after another, with a chisel tip, slightly ragged edges and ink that pools where each stroke starts and stops; runs when it scrolls into view or when its row is hovered.
A reviewer's pen that draws itself onto your text as it scrolls into view: wobbly circles, double underlines, boxes and strike-throughs, then arrows that curve from a handwritten note to the words it means.
Menu to close, play to pause, plus to check, sun to moon: each pair is one set of paths in two poses, so lines rotate and stretch into place on a spring and reverse cleanly mid-way.
A quiet wave that spreads from exactly where you pressed, clipped to the element's corners, finishes filling even on a quick tap, and gives Enter and Space the same feedback from the centre.
A point of light that laps a card's border at a steady pace with a fading tail, tracing rounded corners exactly; every beam on the page shares one clock, so busy cards pulse in step.
A grid that deals itself out from one point like a hand of cards: each card flies to its slot tilted and settles flat, and a shuffle sweeps them back into the deck and deals a fresh order, even mid-flight.
A scrolling list with real rubber-band edges: drag or flick past either end and it stretches with growing resistance, then springs back, pulling down from the top winds up a spinner that snaps when it's ready to refresh, and the wheel hands off to the page once you reach an end.
A thumbnail that lifts off the grid and grows into its own detail view as one object, cover and title travelling with it, the details fading in once it lands; Escape or a click outside folds it back into its exact slot.
Buttons and icons lean toward your pointer as it comes near, labels drifting a little further than their buttons, then spring back the moment you move away.
Dimmed copy with a soft warm spotlight that trails your pointer, bringing the words underneath to full contrast and uncovering a line that isn't there otherwise; on touch, or once you leave, the light drifts on a slow path of its own.
Confetti that blooms out of the button you pressed, hangs at the top of its arc in the air drag, flutters as each piece turns over and drifts down; reduced motion gets a quick check instead.
A heart that squeezes and pops full with a thin ring and a flick of sparks, while the count rolls over digit by digit like an odometer; unliking fades back quietly.
A rubber stamp that rises, winds up and slams onto the page with a quick squash and a jolt through the card, lifting away to leave a rough, slightly bled ink impression that comes out a little different every time.
A booking ticket that, once confirmed, rips along its perforation: the stub pulls open from the top, comes free and drops away with a lazy spin, and the ticket you keep slides back to centre with its torn edge intact.