I wear a tuxedo, but attend no ball. I fly underwater, defying gravity's call. On icy stages, I waddle and stand tall. What am I?

As a verb, you do this with a bad habit that you want to stop doing. As a noun, you can find me in raised sidewalks.

I rule from your couch without leaving your seat, or mark lonely lands where strangers seldom meet.

I'm a quick cut, with a sharp edge fine, A small piece removed, with a clipping sound divine, Used by crafters, and DIY delight, I tidy up things, making them just right.

I’m a color in the forest, in your eyes I sometimes glow. I’m a nut inside a shell, and a name that kids may know. What am I?