Out of the club, into the wild habitat of afters...🌒🦊
Your unofficial queer afterparty guide to the ecosystems that come alive after the clubs close.
Because our natural habitats deserve proper scientific classification. If biologists ever got their hands on queer nightlife, they’d lose their minds. Not over the clubs; those are predictable enough. But the afters? The afters are where the real biodiversity of queer afterparties truly lives.
Picture it: a soft-lit flat in Hackney as a makeshift nature documentary set. A cluster of queers migrating from kitchen to balcony. A lone figure curled on a sofa like a nocturnal woodland creature. Someone in nothing but a harness appearing from a bedroom no one realised existed.
No one has catalogued this.
No one has mapped the terrain.
So, naturally, we had to.
Welcome to your Field Guide to Queer Afters: a playful introduction to the habitats you’ll meet across London’s queer afterparty scene - aka the wilds of 6:18am.
What Are the Different Types of Queer Afterparties?
1. The Mattress Megachurch Afters 🙏🛏️
The one where there are literally just mattresses… and sex. That’s it. You open the door and immediately think: Ah. So this is what’s happening. No chit-chat.
No polite drinks.
No discourse.
Just mattresses - plural - and everyone enthusiastically horizontal.
This is the afters where people come for one reason only, and it’s not small talk. This is a humidity-heavy, eye-contact-optional, “where do I put my bag?” situation.
If you stay:
Know your boundaries, know their boundaries. Know your exit strategy. And whatever you do, don’t put your bag on the floor.
2. The Sociology Conference Afters 📚☕
Everyone is fully clothed and fully convinced they can fix society before sunrise.
Expect discussions on capitalism, queer identity, climate grief, kink politics, and, without fail, someone’s breakup from 2019.
Someone is making herbal tea.
Someone else is quoting their therapist.
Nothing sexual is happening except, arguably, the emotional intimacy.
If you stay:
Sit down. Sip something warm. Prepare to unpack three generational traumas and feel amazing about it.
3. The Dance and Smash Afters 🎶😈
Two rooms. Two energies. One ecosystem.
Living room: sweaty dance circle, rogue DJ, jorts everywhere, the lighting doing God’s work.
Bedroom: parallel ecosystem of horizontal enthusiasm, polite reshuffling, and vibes that could spark three situationships by morning.
A few chaotic neutrals drift between rooms like bisexual spirits maintaining ecological balance.
If you stay:
Hydrate. Rotate rooms responsibly, and follow the unspoken rule:
Living room = vibes.
Bedroom =… not vibes.
4. The Whose-House-Is-This Afters 🤷♂️🏠
You walk in and the first thing you realise is: No one here knows whose house this is.
Your friend doesn’t know.
Their friend doesn’t know.
Everyone shrugs like NPCs in a queer video game.
Someone brought a DJ controller.
Someone else is frying eggs?
A stranger on the sofa is giving life advice like they pay rent here. By 6am, you’re lying on a bed with people whose names you never learned but whose star signs you definitely know.
If you stay:
Surrender to the lore. You’re part of it now.
5. The Puppy Pile Afters 🐶💞
Fully clothed. Fully cuddling. Fully safe. This is the softest biome in queer nightlife.
Everyone is lying in a cosy heap making gentle affirmations, sharing soft stories, and maybe crying in a cute way.
Someone is stroking someone’s hair. Someone else is half-asleep. Someone is whispering “I love queer people so much” on repeat.
It’s emotionally nutritious.
A cuddle commune more than a party.
A serotonin blanket fort.
If you stay:
Relax. Breathe. Let your shoulders drop.
Welcome to the cuddle biome.
6. The Drag Race Home Edition Afters 💄✨
Wigs? On.
Outfits? Changing every 11 minutes.
Gender? Fluid.
Energy? Camp chaos.
Every drawer becomes a costume department.
Someone is painting someone else’s face like it’s the finale.
Half-serious choreography breaks out in the hallway.
Glitter has permeated the habitat. It will be here for years.
If you stay:
Prepare to become a whole new character. You will not leave looking the same.
Why Map Any of This?
Because queer afters aren’t just parties: they’re micro-habitats.
Little ecosystems with their own climates, creatures, and forms of chaos.
In one room, people are debating capitalism like it’s the UN at 5am.
In another, bodies are horizontal and boundaries are gospel.
A stranger’s flat becomes a pilgrimage site.
A living room becomes a dancefloor with no off-switch.
Each habitat asks something different of you. Softness, stamina, silliness, swagger. And not all of them will feel like home.
So which afters is your natural habitat? 🌒🧭
Maybe you’re a Megachurch pilgrim.
Maybe you’re a Sociology Scholar.
Maybe you prefer dancing, smashing, cuddling, or constructing drag personas out of wigs and hope.
Whatever your ecosystem… the night is better when you find the right one.
And honestly, that’s why we built aftrs. 💛🌒