Start with the spoiler-free hints. Go deeper only when you need to. Reveal answers on your own terms.
A direction for each group — no names given.
What kind of thinking each group asks for.
Pointed nudges on the words built to fool you.
Every Connections board plants a few decoys. Here are today’s, and why they pull you the wrong way.
It reads first as a casual word for a friend, which tempts solvers to pair it with MATE as a synonym set. The fishing sense stays hidden unless you're already thinking about angling.
Looks like a buddy, a partner, or a drink rather than a game ending. Its friend-synonym overlap with CHUM is the puzzle's sharpest planted collision.
A real vegetable that sits beside CHOP and SPAM and suggests an edible-things category that simply doesn't exist on this board.
First read is the insect or the plain verb, so its lure sense is easy to miss. It also looks like it could belong with anything outdoors.
COMPOSE, DRAFTS, SENT and SPAM are all labels from a mail app's sidebar or toolbar. The group mixes an action with folder names, so it isn't a pure synonym set — a small wrinkle that keeps the easiest group from feeling trivial.
CHUM, FLY, SPINNER and WORM all describe how an angler draws a fish in, even though only three are physical objects and one is an action. FLY and SPINNER double as everyday words, so the fishing sense only snaps into focus once you commit to the theme.
CAPTURE, CASTLE, CHECK and MATE are things you say or do across the board, with CASTLE and CHECK also carrying strong non-chess meanings. CHECK and MATE form a natural threatening pair that helps confirm the group once spotted.
BEET, BRAH, CHOP and VIVA are meaningless on their own — each is the opening fragment of a famous composer's surname. BEET and CHOP masquerade as food or butchery, so the group only unlocks when you say each fragment and wait for a familiar name to complete it.
Wyna Liu hides the misdirection in surface senses: CHUM and MATE both mean friend, while BEET, CHOP and SPAM read as food, steering solvers toward categories that don't exist. The groups also span different registers — interface labels, board-game actions, angling equipment, name fragments — so success depends on switching frames rather than mastering one vocabulary. Purple's truncation trick works because every fragment is a real word, forcing a completion step.
a textbook decoy
requires lateral thinking
Solving the easiest group first reshapes how you read the entire board.
The editors reuse certain misdirection patterns. Learning to spot them saves guesses.
Purple is never what it first appears to be. Six structural patterns explain most of them.
Film titles, band names, and celebrity surnames hide in plain sight.