Nervous Type is a headline with a survival instinct. As the cursor approaches, letters begin to shiver — the closer you get, the worse it gets. They lean away from the pointer, and at peak panic, chromatic ghosts split off like a signal breaking up.
Push it too far and the word snaps: hold the cursor in place and the letters scatter with real gravity, bounce, lie there for a beat — then spring back into formation as if nothing happened.
Every reaction is driven by a proximity field, not a hover state, so the type feels alive before you ever touch it. An idle breathing motion keeps the headline from looking like a screenshot.
Nervous Type is a headline with a survival instinct. As the cursor approaches, letters begin to shiver — the closer you get, the worse it gets. They lean away from the pointer, and at peak panic, chromatic ghosts split off like a signal breaking up.
Push it too far and the word snaps: hold the cursor in place and the letters scatter with real gravity, bounce, lie there for a beat — then spring back into formation as if nothing happened.
Every reaction is driven by a proximity field, not a hover state, so the type feels alive before you ever touch it. An idle breathing motion keeps the headline from looking like a screenshot.
